


Honor for All

by Nehkles, sarcasmIsOurStrength, WhatABummer



Category: Dishonored (Video Games), Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2018-08-31 09:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8572330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehkles/pseuds/Nehkles, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasmIsOurStrength/pseuds/sarcasmIsOurStrength, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatABummer/pseuds/WhatABummer
Summary: In the dying, plague-infested city of Dunwall, fear, treachery, and bloodlust lurk around every corner. Nick Wilde is the Shadow Fox - infamous thief and burgler. Judy Hopps, the Royal Protector of the Empress. A rabbit and a fox brought together by the point of blade, snared in a web of conspiracy, and struggling to survive without compromising their souls.





	1. The Ivory Tower

_Restrict the Wandering Gaze that looks hither and yonder for some flashing thing that easily catches a man's fancy in one moment, but brings calamity in the next. For the eyes are never tired of seeing, nor are they quick to spot illusion. A man whose gaze is corrupted is like a warped mirror that has traded beauty for ugliness and ugliness for beauty. Instead, fix your eyes to what is edifying and to what is pure, and then you will be able to recognize the profane monuments of the Outsider._

_\- The First Stricture_  

* * *

 

The tide was high on the Wrenhaven, the afternoon sun dancing and shimmering across the surface of the river, almost a hundred feet below the dark clad fox who clung to the side of a white stone tower. Sparing a quick glance down as a wave crashed against the rocks below (a fall from this height was sure to be fatal), the fox grunted and shifted his weight to reach above him.

The tower’s face was sheer, almost polished, masonry. The gleaming white stone had been quarried hundreds of years before in Caulkenny on the Isle of Morley, and was presented to the Emperor as a sign of the Duke of Morley’s loyalty. In the century since it was built, no army had ever captured Dunwall Tower, nor had any siege come close to success. Thousands of tons of the stone were shipped at great expense so that the Emperor’s seat of power would be impregnable, a testament to the strength of the Empire.

But while the tower was designed to keep an army at bay, a single fox was able to make a mockery of the illusion of impenetrability. The climb was difficult, testing the fox’s strength and agility, as he deftly leapt from one miniscule handhold to the next. To any ordinary mammal, such a climb would be the height of madness, nothing more than an attempt at suicide.

But Nick Wilde was never one to let foolish things like _caution_ and _common sense_ get in his way. And this was far from the first time he’d climbed the tower.

With a grunt, Nick reached a paw up to grasp at the metal of an exposed vent that jutted out from the masonry near the top of the tower, the black metal a stark contrast to the bright stone around it. The fox pulled himself onto the vent, pausing to catch his breath. He was very near to the top of the tower, resting on the side of the large building that extended out into the Wrenhaven and housed the waterlock - one of Anton Sokolov’s famous inventions. A boat from the river could sail into a chamber at the base, great iron doors shut behind it, and - by means of great steam powered engines - the water raised up the length of the tower.

 _It sure beats climbing._ Nick thought to himself as he glanced across the river.

From his vantage point, he could see the whole of Dunwall spread before him, sprawling up the banks of the river. As the sun continued its descent to the horizon, Nick could see that the gaslights were beginning to be lit across the city, twinkling in orange and yellow hues. The points of light were joined with a smattering of harsher ones, the white light of electric spotlights.

The deep bass of the horn of a whaling ship drifted lazily off the river, and Nick could just make out a handful of the massive steel vessels heading up and down the river, billowing dark clouds of smoke behind them.

Nick soaked in the sight, the feel of the wind whipping through his fur, and took in a deep breath to catch the smell of salt and smoke.

This was Dunwall. His home. His city.

From where he sat, it was beautiful. Nothing revealed the extent of the plague that ravaged the city, nor the depths of turmoil that its populace faced. All was placid and serene.

Nick stood, and turned back to the wall of the tower in front of him and began to climb once more. After a short time, he reached the parapet of the tower overlooking the waterlock. The roof was thankfully unoccupied, so Nick hopped down, pausing to check that his equipment had made the climb with him.

His quiver clung tight to his back, the fletching of two dozen shafts poking out from the well-oiled leather. Strung across it was his bow, a simple oak recurve - functional, if not fancy. At his waist, a simple thin sword was sheathed in a scabbard. Though no slouch with a blade, Nick never found much use for it, preferring to use his bow in most situations. Still, it was nice to have, and it had saved his life on more than one occasion.

Nick walked to the other end of the tower and peered down at the balcony below. He spotted two members of the Royal Guard, a wolf standing at the parapets to the south, overlooking the Wrenhaven. A moose was leaning back in his chair against the tower walls, snoring loudly.

 _Typical._ Nick thought with a sly smile, _If the Watch paid half as much attention as they’re supposed to, I’d be out of a job._

Nick looked up from the balcony across to the building housing the waterlock, and knew from experience that the gap was too far for him to jump from the top of this tower without breaking a leg. But Nick had come prepared.

The fox reached back and retrieved his bow, and drew a strange arrow from his quiver - in place of an arrowhead, this arrow featured three spring-loaded prongs that were designed to shoot out once the arrow struck a solid surface. He fastened a rope to the end of the arrow and put it across his bow.

With a steady and practiced hand, Nick drew the bow, aimed, and let the arrow fly. It sailed over the gap, landing on the roof across the gap with a soft clatter that could scarce be heard over the cawing of seagulls or crashing of the waves below. Glancing down at the guards below - who gave no indication they’d noticed - Nick donned a sly grin.

_As easy as ever._

Nick pulled his end of the rope tight until the hook on the arrow caught the edge of the waterlock roof. Swiftly, he tied his end of the rope down, creating a tight rope across the gap. Hopping back up onto the parapet, Nick gingerly tested his weight on the rope. It would hold.

With a last glance down, Nick’s muzzle split into a wide smirk and he began to walk across the rope, crossing the gap without difficulty. Once on the roof of the waterlock, Nick reached behind him and put up his hood and cowl. His red fur would stand out in the late afternoon sun, and Nick had no desire to be noticed.

Nick began to make his way across the length of the waterlock roof. In front of him, Nick could see the grounds of Dunwall tower and the keep proper behind it. With luck, Nick wouldn’t have to venture any further into the tower’s ground to accomplish what he had come to do.

Reaching the far edge, Nick glanced down to the grounds below, searching for his quarry.

On a small balcony slightly below the gazebo that dominated the western half of the grounds, he caught sight of a figure that made his breath catch in his throat.

Judy Hopps, the Royal Protector.

* * *

 

He remembered the day as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. Six years ago when Theodanis Abele, Duke of Serkonos had arrived to pay tribute to the previous Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin. It had been overcast, dreary and grey, a usual day in the Month of Rains. 

The word had spread well in advance of the Duke’s arrival: Abele had brought the winner of the Blade Verbana with him to swear into the service of the Emperor. And the rumors said that not only had the winner put the best swordsman in the Isles to shame, but she was but a 16 year old rabbit.

It was the latter thought that most of the populace found laughable. A bunny out fencing mammals more than twice her size? Impossible.

And yet the rumors persisted, so many had gathered for the sole purpose of catching a glimpse of this mysterious swordsman.

Nick too had been curious, and positioned himself on the top of a roof overlooking Clavering Boulevard. He figured he would watch the procession approach, and then take to the streets to cut some purses.

The Duke’s procession had been bristling with color, brilliant pennants fluttering in the wind. The Duke was borne aloft in a litter carried by a half dozen burly mammals, flanked by the Grand Guard in their crisp white uniforms with traditional red sashes.

Theodanis looked every bit the part of a Duke, his auburn mane tinged with grey looking regal over a white coat. The old lion had waved to the crowd that had gathered to see the procession, periodically turning to whisper something to the mammal who sat next to him.

From his vantage, the canopy of the litter had blocked his view. On impulse, Nick had abandoned his plan to pick pockets and dashed across the rooftops to get further ahead of the procession. He paused on a rooftop and glanced down at the litter.

The rumors had been right.

Nick never forgot how vibrant the rabbit’s eyes were. Brilliant, amethyst orbs that seemed to be staring right at him.

And then Nick realized she _was_ staring right at him.

Clearly the rabbit had seen Nick dashing from roof to roof and had moved to put herself between him and the Duke, a paw on the pommel of her blade. She defiantly glared at Nick, daring him to make a move.

And Nick found he couldn’t tear his gaze away for a long moment.

Suddenly coming to his senses, Nick darted up a wall and out of sight. The procession passed on its way towards Dunwall Tower, but the memory of the rabbit’s fiery gaze lingered on.

* * *

 

Nick shook the memory from his head, and turned his attention back to Judy. Not that this was particularly difficult.

The fox couldn’t explain why, but something about the rabbit drew him to her. He was captivated by her every movement. This was not the first time he’d spied on her from afar. He’d watched when she was named Royal Protector, and followed her through the city on nearly a dozen other occasions.

Judy stood, sword drawn, squaring off against one of the Royal Guard, a leopard two and a half times her size. Nick heard the clashing of steel on steel, marveling at how quick the rabbit was on her feet. She had a determined smirk on her face, which Nick was quite familiar with.

She was toying with the poor leopard, and the look on the feline’s face made it clear he knew it too.

In the flash of an eye, Judy dove under the leopards legs, rebounding off a small wall behind her to plant both of her feet into the small of the cat’s back. The guard went sprawling forward, and Judy kicked his sword aside and put her blade to the leopard’s neck.

Nick suddenly realized he was smiling under his cowl.

Judy helped the guard to his feet, and Nick could tell from her gestures that she was giving the guard tips on his footwork, where to put his weight and when. The leopard nodded, clearly thankful for the pointers. He gave the rabbit a smart salute, and made his way towards the tower’s keep.

Judy watched the guard go, and stood, ears down, clearly deep in thought. Nick couldn’t help but think her beautiful.

 _Outsider’s eyes … Never thought I’d lose it like this -_ **_especially_ ** _not over a rabbit,_ Nick mused.

Judy’s ears suddenly sprang up, one swiveling to the side. She turned, and Nick saw a small black furred mammal leap towards the rabbit. Judy had plenty of time to step to the side, but instead threw her arms wide and caught her attacker in a laughter filled hug.

Nick recognized the young pantheress immediately: Emily Kaldwin, daughter of the Empress, and heir to the throne.

The fox watched the two wrestle for a moment, before Judy helped Emily to her feet. Emily tugged at Judy’s paw and pointed to a small ravine on the tower grounds. Judy smiled brightly and nodded, prompting Emily to dash ahead down the gorge. Judy closed her eyes and began to count.

Nick had seen the two play hide and seek before, and he loved watching how subtly Judy was teaching Emily the basics of stealth. The pantheress had a knack for it too, Nick had noted. After several rounds, Judy and Emily started to make their way back up the ravine towards the keep.

As he watched them go, Nick cursed himself for being born a commoner. For being born a fox, the son of a tailor. He was a fool, breaking into the seat of the Empire simply because he was pining over a girl - a _rabbit_ of all mammals - that he had no chance in the Void with.

_Maybe in another life._

This was going to be the last Nick saw of Judy for sometime. It was well known that the Empress was going to send Judy to tour the Isles for a solution to the plague. And Nick knew that a ship was waiting to take her on the morrow.

The sun had begun to touch the horizon, and the shadows had grown long. So Nick turned to leave, but stole one last glance down at the Tower grounds. He immediately regretted it, because a third figure had joined Judy and Emily - a tall, regal, feline form.

It was her - Jessamine Kaldwin, her Imperial Majesty, the Empress of the Isles, and the _witch_ that let his father die. He felt his paw clench tight against the hilt of his sword. Nick had to steady himself to stifle the growl that started to rumble deep in his throat. How he wished he could run his blade through that monster's cold heart.

Jessamine’s beloved status in the public eye drove Nick absolutely mad. They were certain their Empress was going to save them all from the plague that has been devastating Dunwall for months.

Nick couldn’t believe how _daft_ they could all be. The Empress wasn’t going to save them from _the plague_. She was more likely to burn down whole blocks just to keep it at bay, away from her shining fortress on the river. If anyone was going to save the city, it would be the Royal Physician, provided he wasn’t too busy painting some noble’s portrait ...

Nick’s anger continued to fester. Oh, how so very _easy_ it would be to just a draw back his bow and let an arrow fly loose. He wouldn’t miss, and he could be back in the water before anyone knew what happened.

As tempting as the thought was, it would do nothing but create more problems. Not only would he become the most wanted mammal in the Isles, but he would destabilize the entire Empire. Having Parliament stumbling over itself in a rush to hold everything together would do nothing to help the common mammal living in Dunwall. Conditions would only get worse.

Nick let out a sigh, knowing that taking his revenge would do nothing to help. He’d feel some momentary satisfaction; a fleeting feeling of justice being dealt, before everything would begin to topple. Having the city on the verge of collapse would be _very_ bad for business.

He was the Shadow Fox, the infamous thief in the night. There wasn’t a safe, vault, or bank in Dunwall he couldn’t crack.

Whatever else he was, Nick was no assassin.

He’d lingered here too long, it was time to go to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honor for All is a collaboration between WhatABummer and Nehkles. We both love Dishonored and Zootopia, and couldn’t help ourselves.
> 
> It’s funny … we tried to come up with a good hook for a Dishonored AU before the second game came out, to no avail. But after getting hyped by actually playing through the second game (it’s really good!) and seeing some amazing fan art by the one and only WyvernsWeaver (easily in our top two favorite Weavers), we suddenly found ourselves talking long into the night to come up with a story.
> 
> Now we know how Piero felt ...
> 
> We’re very excited to write this, and we hope you enjoy!


	2. The Royal Protector

The clang of steel colliding with steel echoed throughout the courtyard. The unmistakable sounds of a sword fight. Two mammals stood, locked in a battle of strength, cunning, and agility.

The rabbit took a step back from her foe, blade extended to keep the leopard across from her at bay. She took note of his stance; his blade was in a defensive position, his right foot placed forward. He was trying to hold the rabbit back, to last as long as he could and hopefully exploit some weakness later on.

It was a losing strategy, one that relied on luck over skill. The rabbit knew it was better to make an opening for yourself than to wait for one to present itself.

The rabbit could see the leopard was leaning a bit too far forward - too much weight on the front foot - ready to put a great amount of force into a parry were she to strike. Strength was one of the few advantages the cat had, and it would've been an effective tactic had this been the rabbit's first day wielding a blade. Putting too much weight forward left him vulnerable - he could easily be toppled over with a slight pull towards the rabbit.

Or a push from behind.

_That sounds like more fun._ The rabbit thought to herself, and a predatory grin spread across her muzzle..

With a lightning fast flick of her wrist she baited the leopard with a series of feints. The feline readied a parry at each one, only to become visibly confused when at each turn he saw that no strike was forthcoming.

She was conditioning him; if the leopard didn't know what to expect, then she could do practically _anything_ and it would work.

In a flash, the rabbit dove underneath the felines legs, causing him to let out a small yelp in surprise at the unexpected move.

With unmatched swiftness, she planted both her feet on a small wall behind her - coiling her legs before pushing off and turning herself so she could deliver a mighty kick to the leopard's back.

The cat toppled forward, losing his grip on his blade as he landed. The rabbit quickly dashed towards him, kicking the sword aside and putting her blade to his neck. If she was so inclined, she could end his life this very instant. A couple pounds of force, and his lifeblood would spill out onto the floor.

But she would not do that to this leopard. Not to one of the Royal Guard.

The rabbit sheathed her blade, extending her small paw to help to leopard to his feet.

"You fought admirably Lieutenant, but make sure you don't lean forward so much. Too easy to knock you down if an enemy gets behind you." She said before pointing down to his feet. "Keep working on your footwork as well. Much harder to hit a moving target, even with a blade."

"Right." the leopard nodded, dusting off his uniform before giving the rabbit a salute. "Thank you for the training, Lady Protector." The rabbit gave him a respectful nod as the feline headed back towards the guard barracks.

Although the duel had just ended, it was _really_ over before it even started, and each of the participants knew it. Because no matter how great you _think_ you are with a blade, no matter your species or how many years you've trained, no one bests the Royal Protector in combat.

No one bests Judy Hopps.

To the young rabbit, fencing was an art. Every since her childhood in the city of Karnaca, down in Serkonos, she'd always wanted to learn how to fight, and maybe even join the Grand Guard someday. Growing up the daughter of two well respected nobles made that a challenge, if not an impossibility. Joining the guard and patrolling the streets, having to deal with all the filth? "Absolutely not," her parents had said. That was no way for a lady to go about living. They wanted her to be wed to some noble buck of dubious intellect the minute she came of age.

But Judy was never one to give into her parents wishes, though that wasn't to say she was a complete rebel. She loved her parents, and respected them greatly. She just didn't want to be held back simply because it would please them.

So, she'd sneak off in the dead of night to go climb buildings, run across rooftops, and learn how to fence. She'd first picked up the craft after seeing a group of young bucks mock fighting in a back alley. They were dueling with nothing but wooden sticks, and was able to pick up the basics as she watched.

And soon, she was able to take on a half dozen mammals twice her size.

A few years later, Judy found herself entering into fencing competitions. She always gathered a fairly sizable crowd whenever she fought. It wasn't because she was a rabbit - as they made up a much larger percent of the population in Serkonos than anywhere else in the Isles - but because she was so young. Here was this young doe - barely sixteen years old - and she was beating wolves and tigers that had been training for years in front of massive crowds.

And at last, there came the Blade Verbana; the annual sword duelling festival. Fighters from around the Isles came to Karnaca to participate, and hopefully win first prize - the Duke's favor. Judy saw this as a chance to finally prove herself; to show that this was what she was meant to do.

And in spectacular fashion, she did - making short work of half a dozen prestigious guards. Her skills made a heavy impression on the Duke, who was delighted to see one of his own subjects win first prize, and took note of just how good she was with a blade for her age.

And so, Duke Theodanis decided that Judy would help him stay in good standing with the Emperor. After all, no leader in their right mind would deny a winner of the Blade Verbana from joining the guard ranks. Judy and the Duke traveled north to Dunwall, and he presented her as a gift to his Imperial Majesty.

To Judy, it was a dream come true- a life filled with danger, honor, and purpose. And this was just the beginning for her.

She was assigned as a member of the Royal Guard, protecting Dunwall tower and all who lived inside. She wowed the royal family, showing prowess, cunning, loyalty, and the utmost respect for her superiors. It didn't take long for Emperor Euhorn to take notice of her skills.

One day, he called for her to join him out by the tower gazebo, to have a nice chat and a few glasses of Tyvian wine. The graying panther made her an offer she couldn't, nor wouldn't dare refuse in a thousand years.

Become the personal bodyguard of the Emperor's daughter, Jessamine Kaldwin, along with her own daughter Emily.

Become the Royal Protector.

Not only would she be the first rabbit to be given the title, but the youngest ever recipient as well. Only eighteen years old and she was assigned a position most mammals could only dream of. Most Emperors or Empresses had only one or two Royal Protectors throughout their reign, with the really good ones serving for their entire lives. It was an extremely prestigious title.

Now the name Judy Hopps was known across the Isles. No one with ill intent dared get within a mile of the Empress, lest they be struck down with ferocity and swiftness by the fiery bunny.

Judy let out a sigh as she slowly paced around the courtyard, her ears drooping as her mind wandered back to the journey that lay ahead of her.

She was to leave the Empress's side and sail to the other capitals of the Isles, in hopes that one of them may have some sort of cure to the rat plague that has been crippling Dunwall for months.

_Those poor souls._ Judy lamented. The plague had originated amongst the city's rat population, and seems to be affecting them and other rodents the most drastically. They lose all sense of logic and reason, running around on all fours, and attacking any mammal that wandered near. Those who are bitten become sick beyond belief, slowly dieing from the extreme fever, cough, and eventual deterioration of the lungs and brain. The common phrase the public began using for them was Weepers for the bloody discharge that seeped from the eyes and noses of the infected

To say that the plague has decimated the city would be an understatement. Since it's initial arrival, close to half of the city has fallen to the debilitating disease. The rodent population has suffered the most significant losses, with nearly 90% of them having contracted the plague, and any of those not infected had either taken ships out of the city, or barricaded themselves in their own homes.

It was getting so severe that rumors began to surface that the other cities would form a blockade around Dunwall, preventing ships from spreading the plague any further.

If none of the other cities had any advice, any remedy that would help cure not only the Weepers, but the infected rats as well, then Dunwall could very well fall within a year.

It was a disheartening thought, and one that had weighed heavily on Judy's mind for weeks now.

But the dark thoughts fled from her mind as soon as she heard a young voice speak, causing her large ears to shoot upwards. The source was quickly detected to her right and she turned to face it with a smile broadening on her face.

"Hey, kiddo!" Judy said as she opened her arms, readying a hug for the charging mammal.

The young panther ran continued dashing forward towards the rabbit, a smile on her own muzzle.

"Judy!" the panthress said as the rabbit pulled her into a tight hug. "I haven't seen you all day! It's your job to protect Mother, is it not?"

"Well Emily, it's also my job to do whatever your mother says, and she told me to go down to the Distillery District today to talk to a few mammals." Judy said as she released the feline from the embrace.

"The Distillery District? Did she send you to fetch more of that spiced wine again? That's hardly fitting of the Royal Protector."

Judy let out a chuckle. "No, silly. Your mother sends me to do that _one_ time and suddenly that's all I'm doing whenever I leave the tower!"

"So… what were you doing then?" the panthress asked.

Judy paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "Grown up things, Emily. Nothing you need to worry your fur about. Now, what brings you out here at this time of day? Surely the cooks will have dinner ready any minute now. Not hungry?"

"No, it's not that. I just wanted to... see if you were home" Emily said, while rubbing the back of her neck..

"And?" Judy said with a small smirk.

The panthress let out a sigh. "Okay, and maybe I wanted to play hide and seek too. We haven't done that in a while, and you leave on that long trip tomorrow."

"I know, Emily. I've just been busy with doing work for your mother. But, I have completed all my ordered tasks, so I think I have a bit of free time if you wanted to-"

"Yes!" the young cat yelled, grabbing Judy by the paw and pulling down the staircase leading into the tower's small revine. She released it about halfway down, turning to face Judy, who just gave her a smile and a nod, signalling that it was time to start.

Judy closed her eyes and began counting, hearing the soft pitter-patter of Emily's footsteps as she attempted to find a hiding place.

Whenever the two played hide and seek in whatever empty part of the tower grounds they could find, Judy would always seem to win. This was due in no small part to her large ears, letting her hone in on the slightest of breathing were she close enough. Emily on the other paw had much better eyes, allowing her to find Judy more easily when she hid in the shadows. Of course, as long Judy could stay out of sight whenever it was her turn to hide, the young feline had no chance of finding her.

As Judy opened her eyes, she took notice of the quiet rustling behind a dumpster on the right side of the ravine. It was obvious that Emily was hiding there, so naturally it was the last place Judy looked. The panthress had actually become rather good at hiding since they began playing hide and seek, but she was still no match for a rabbit's superior hearing.

It was a good thing nobody had yet told the young girl about that particular ability in rabbits, otherwise she would surely be upset at Judy. Well, for all of about five seconds anyway. Practically an eternity for Emily.

Judy remembered when she first met Lady Emily; The doe had just been assigned as Jessamine Kaldwin's Royal Protector by Emperor Euhornwhen he was still the Emperor. The rabbit greeted the Emperor's daughter with the most sincere admiration and respect. Jessamine kindly and graciously acknowledged the gesture, before telling her it was unnecessary, and asking if she wanted to meet her daughter. Judy had immediately agreed. She always loved being around young kits. Her family was rather large compared to other noble families down in Karnaca, so she had plenty of experience with little ones. Emily was only four at the time, with enough energy in her to power all of Dunwall for a month.

Now at the age of ten, the Lady Emily and Judy had grown as close as sisters. And Emily adored Judy; the younger panther was taller than the older rabbit by almost an inch (and still had much more growing to do) but it was plain to see the young pantheress looked up to Judy.

After several more rounds of hiding, they each agreed that it was time to head inside and get some dinner. The sun was beginning to touch the horizon, so hopefully they hadn't-

"You two do realize it's rather rude to keep someone waiting at dinner, don't you?" a regal feline form said as they reached the top of the stairs.

"Mother!" Emily said in a shocked tone. "We were just-"

The Empress raised a paw, letting out a light chuckle at her daughter's words.

"Relax, Emily. You're not in trouble. You just wanted to play with Judy, I understand. She will be leaving us for some time, after all."

"Yeah… but do you _have_ to send Judy? You could just send a few officers instead." Emily said.

"Yes, I could. But sending Judy ensures me that the job will get done, and unfortunately I can't say the same for just a handful of officers. Now, go have one of the maids bring dinner to your quarters. Judy and I have some important business to discuss."

Emily let out a groan, but ultimately relented before saying goodbye to Judy, leaving the Empress and the Royal Protector alone in the courtyard.

"So, what have you discovered?" The Empress asked after they made sure they were alone.

"The boat is currently resting somewhere inside the Flooded District. A couple of scavengers said they recognized the ship's name from one of their last runs into the district. Wouldn't give any specifics though. They seemed convinced that I was going to steal some of their scrap."

"Hmph. Most would assume the Royal Protector has more important things on their mind than making a bit of coin. You're sure this is the one that brought the plague to Dunwall?"

"I believe so, yes. By all known accounts, it's last stop before reaching port in Dunwall was the Pandyssian Continent."

"Pandyssia? So it seems that Sokolov was correct in his assumption. I trust you have time to investigate before your departure?"

"I'm afraid not. You see, I was going to head to the ship right away, but I found something that is a... much more immediate concern."

"Oh?" The Empress asked with a slight tilt of her head.

Judy pulled a note out of her pocket before handing it to the Empress, who began to read it.

_Lady Protector,_

_You do not know me, nor would I expect you to, but I felt you should be aware of this. I believe there is an immanent threat on the Empress's life._

_If you want more information - which I very much believe you do - meet me at midnight in the Milton Industries warehouse just south of Kaldwin's Bridge. No doubt you'll think this a trap, but you've got far too much to lose to ignore this._

_Take great care, and tread carefully in Dunwall Tower. Not everyone is so loyal as you._

"Where did you get this?" the Empress asked. "Have you informed the Spymaster?"

"A passerby on the street handed this to me, claimed it was from a friend of a friend. And if there's any truth in this, I'd rather keep this information between us. I know it sounds a bit strange, but you understand that as the Royal Protector, I must focus all my attention on any potential threat to you, no matter what is going on in the rest of the city."

"Yes Judy, but you must understand that as Empress I must focus all my attention on any threat to the Empire. We need to do something about this plague, and soon. I pray that you will find some tangible answers on your journey, but it will take you months to return. The mammals out there need something now."

"I agree that something must be done, but I need to focus on eliminating anything that might threaten your life. Is it possible for you to send a group of Royal Guard to secure the ship?"

"You know what happened to the last group I sent into the Flooded District. Those not taken by the river krusts were fair game for the Weepers, and any that survived them were hunted by Whalers. I doubt anyone but you could successfully navigate those ruins. Except maybe..." The Empress began, before a look of sudden realization appeared on her face. "The Shadow Fox."

"With all due respect your Majesty, I-"

"Judy dear, you know that we're the only one's here. You don't have to call me that right now."

"Right." Judy said with a soft smile, clearing her throat to begin speaking once again. "With all due respect Jessamine, I don't think that a thief would be willing to work for us unless we left our safes open for them one night."

"So we'll do that. If this fox wants coin, we'll give it to him. I cannot ignore what is happening out there. They're my citizens, and we have to save them all from the plague if we can."

"Absolutely, Jessamine. I agree, but… the Shadow Fox doesn't do jobs for just _anyone_ , as far as we know. Yes, he has skills. He wouldn't have been able to evade capture for this long if he didn't, but the only way to let him know you require his services are through word of mouth. Besides, I doubt the most wanted thief in Dunwall has any interests in meeting the Royal Protector face to face."

"Judy, I'm not asking you to make a pact with the Outsider. I simply ask that you seek him out, and see if he can be of use to us. If not, then follow your lead and ready yourself for a long journey."

Judy let out a sigh, relenting to the Empress's words. "Alright, Jessamine. I'll find this thief before midnight."

"Good." The panther said. The two just stood there for a moment, each of them content with being in the other's company. They had each become quite good friends since Judy was appointed Royal Protector, and it would be one of the last times they see each other for quite some time after all.

"Judy," Jessamine asked after a short while. "Do you think I'm a good Empress?"

The rabbit was not expecting this question. Her ears perked up in surprise as she formulated her words in her head.

"Absolutely. I think you're a fine Empress, and I'm not just saying that because you could have me executed at any moment." Judy said as she playfully nudged the feline, causing her to let out a light huff of air.

"You joke, but I truly am concerned. No other ruler has had to deal with an epidemic of this scope before. If I can't bring a stop to it, what will become of Dunwall? Of the Empire?"

"Please, Jessamine. You have enough things to worry about. No need to add any more to that list. I've been by your side since you were put on the throne, and I think you've always been a fair and compassionate leader."

"Really? Even with the heretic's son?"

Judy began to speak, but stopped at the thought of that particular incident.

It was very early on in Jessamine's reign, and a fox had come into court one day pleading for his father's life. The Abbey of the Overseers had branded the young fox's father a heretic and sentenced him to death. Judy remembered how passionately the fox had argued, how much fire burned in his viridian eyes.

Only the High Overseer and the Empress had the power to halt the execution. The Abbey was distrustful of the newly crowned Empress at the time, and approving the execution of someone they considered a heretic was a chance to get in there good graces. So she denied the fox's request.

"Jessamine, you can't keep blaming yourself for that." The rabbit put a comforting paw on the panther's hip. "There was nothing more you could've done. If you had-"

"Oh really? Nothing? That fox came begging to me to let his father live, and I denied it, all because I wanted to gain the good graces of the Abbey. It was a cowardly thing to do. I let my fear dictate my actions, and I took that mammal's father from him."

The Empress turned and took Judy's paw in hers, her eyes filled with sorrow.

"It's just … I wonder sometimes what I would have done had Corvo been there. He always made me feel so safe - not that you don't Judy, but ... Maybe that fox would have a father still, and maybe I'd know the right thing to do about this plague."

A few tears began to roll down the panthers face, and Judy quickly brought her friend in for a comforting hug. This really was affecting Jessamine a lot more than Judy had expected. The Empress had been very close with her previous Royal Protector, maybe a bit more close than the two should've been. It was an unfortunate fact that her Imperial Majesty was no stranger to loss, so the thought of bringing such sorrow to others clearly upset her.

"It's okay, Jessamine. We've all done things that we regret. We just have to move on, and hope that they help make us better mammals in the end."

"You're… you're right." The Empress said with a few soft sniffles. "I need to focus on what's good for the Empire right now. Thank you, Judy. A protector _and_ a councilor … my father chose well."

"Thank you your Majesty." Judy replied, releasing the feline from the hug. "Now, I think you should head inside while I prep a boat for release."

"So you're the one giving orders now? Remind me not to turn my back around you." The Empress joked with a smile before fixing Judy with a somber look. "Good luck, Judy. I hope you can find some answers."

"I hope so too, Jessamine. Goodnight." Judy said, turning away from the Empress and starting towards the waterlock. She looked briefly to the west, noting that the sun was almost halfway down the horizon.

She'd didn't have much daylight left. It was time to go to work.


	3. Meeting of Minds

_Shake paws, count your claws,_

_You steal mine, I'll borrow yours._

_Watch my whiskers, check both ears._

_Robber foxes have no fears._

― _Brian Jacques_

* * *

 

Much has been written about Dunwall, about its expansive neighborhoods, it's sprawling districts. About how it served as the melting pot for the empire, a miniature of the Isles at large. The food, cultures and traditions of Morley, Serkonos, Tyvia, and Gristol all vied for space amongst the gray walls and towering apartments of the capitol.

But little had been written about Dunwall after dark.

There was an old saying - a superstition as far as the nobles were concerned - about night on the Wrenhaven.

"When Night falls, the Outsider crawls to steal your breath away /

So you best be quick, lest you fall for their tricks /

And die before the dawning of day."

It was a rhyme that Nick had taken to heart. Dunwall at night was a dangerous place. Those who failed to appreciate the dangers quickly found themselves on the other end of a sword or blackjack, robbed of their possessions. Or if they ran afoul of a particularly nasty gang, they'd be found face down, floating in the canals.

But as dangerous as it was, Nick thrived on it. Night was the time of the Shadow Fox.

Nick dashed from roof to roof, leaping from the top of one apartment to the top of a factory. He was in his element, feeling at ease as he slid down the shingles of one building to jump across the gap between it and the next.

This was his city, and this was when he felt most alive.

He was drawing close to the Estate District, prime territory for a thief. So many nobles hiding in their mansions, paranoid and predictable. But what they lacked in imagination, they'd make up for in guards, strongboxes, and the latest security measures devised by Sokolov. As if any of those would stop Nick. He's yet to have a quarry that he was unable to steal from, and tonight would not be his first.

All of these apartments no doubt held many valuables inside that Nick would love to get his paws on, but he had a different destination in mind; a watchmaker's shop, just off Whitechapel, near the the market square where so many fishmongers and snake oil salesman fought daily for the attention of the masses on their way to devotion.

Nick leapt from the balcony of an apartment building to land on the roof of another, immediately ducking into a roll. The clattering of loose shingles was all the evidence that the fox had passed this way, as after years of practice his feet were now practically silent. Nick leaned over to look down to the street and the watchmaker's shop below, eyeing anything that might cause him trouble.

The front of the shop opened onto the market square, and even at this hour Nick could see a few bored guards from the Watch idling around the otherwise deserted market. Only an amateur would try to break into a shop like that from the front door. In a rich district like this, there would be a multitude of security measures to make such an attempt foolhardy.

So Nick turned his attention to the rear of the building, which backed onto a small alleyway. It was a tempting point of entry, out of the line of sight of any guards in the square.

He made his way to the edge of the rooftop, taking note of the thin pipes that ran down the side of the building. With careful precision, Nick grabbed onto the pipe and slowly slid down, making sure to keep an eye out for any wayward wanderers that might spot his descent.

Once his feet touched the ground and he was sure that no one else was around, Nick spotted his way in; A literal window of opportunity, left open by the owner, most likely. The fox peeked inside, taking note of a little addition that was not commonplace with most windows. A handmade tripwire was positioned right inside, no doubt set up to either an alarm, or some contraption that would fire an arrow or crossbow bolt at any intruder that dared enter.

Not that this would be any problem for Nick. He could disarm any tripwire in a matter of seconds, using his deft paws to carefully re-configure the wired trap so that it would no longer activate whatever it lead to. Once it was disarmed, he wasted no time making his way inside, shutting the window behind him just to make sure that he was covering his tracks.

The window had lead him right into the watchmaker's workshop, with various broken models of wrist worn clocks scattered across a large table, along with a series of small, precise tools, none of which would be of much value on their own. The lights were off in the workshop right now, but that wouldn't be a problem for Nick. Another reason he loved the night was because it gave him yet another advantage; his natural night vision.

Nick lowered his stance and began to move slowly across the room towards the door to the rest of the shop, checking his surroundings to make sure he wasn't going to accidentally bump into anything and alert the shop owner. Once he reached the door, he moved his head closer, peeking through the keyhole to the other side so he could scout out the area.

He could see a fennec fox standing on a stepladder on the other side, counting up the money in the shop's cash register by the looks of it, with several sacks of coin sitting on the counter as well. His back was facing the door Nick was peeking through, and he seemed to pay no mind as Nick slowly turned the doors handle and gentle pushed the door open, as quiet as a mouse.

Nick moved carefully towards the fennec. He would only get one shot at this, and he didn't want all this effort to be wasted. He was finally going to do this.

_Just a little closer…_

"You got pretty damn close this time, Wilde. But, I found you, and now I'm calling the guards, and they're rushing in to run your scrawny ass through with a sword."

Nick let out an annoyed huff and lowered his hood and cowl. He thought for sure he was quiet this time.

"Dammit, Finnick. How'd you know? I didn't mess up on that tripwire again, did I?"

"Nah, you handled that just fine as far as I can tell. Didn't even hear you either. The ol' nose caught ya this time." the fennec said, shutting the register and turning to the larger fox.

"What? How'd you manage to get downwind _inside_ a building?"

"I didn't. You smell like the Wrenhaven, Nicky. I smelled that shit as soon as you got to the alley. You make another visit to that bunny instead of makin' coin again?"

"Maybe…" Nick replied sheepishly.

"Of course you did. How the hell'd you get so caught up on someone you got no chance with? She's a bunny, not to mention the damn Royal Protector! I don't think she'd be one to rut with a guy who steals for a livin'. Damn doe's probably cost us over a thousand coin at this point by taking up time _you_ could be spent finding goods."

"Don't ask me why, Finn. I'm just… drawn to her, I don't know…"

"Yeah? Well get _un_ drawn real quick. We got someone askin' to meet with you."

"Oh really? Who?" Nick asked.

"No idea, got this second hand from the network. Didn't get a name, species, nothin'. All I know is they want you to meet them on top of the damn clock tower at eleven, and they're offerin' three hundred coin up front for the job, and double that when it's finished."

"Damn." Nick said, surprised by the payout. "Who brought this job to you anyway? Piero?"

"Nah, that stoat is still workin' on your mask. I got this one from Lessley… who got it from Fangstein, who got it from Morton, and so on. Point it, whoever's askin' for you is certainly trying to stay discreet about it. Plus this whole thing reeks of desperation, if you ask me. Should be able to make a good haul."

"Indeed. Probably some noble that just _has_ to have something from one of their rival's collections of priceless knick-knacks. Did you have any jobs like that back in the day?" Nick asked.

"If there's one thing I know, it's that so long as there are pompous nobles with stupid grudges, the Fox will never run out of jobs to do. Dunwall will always have need of a Shadow Fox.

"I suppose… The vixen that came before you told you that, didn't she?"

"You're askin' a lot of questions right now, when you could be off gettin' us paid. You know I ain't gonna go out doing that stuff anymore." Finnick gripped, opening one of the bags and counting the coin inside. "I gave you the damn title so I could spend my nights with a glass of whiskey and a nice cigar, which your lanky ass is keeping me from. Get a move on."

"You are the grumpiest fence a fox could have. Not many would put up with you." Nick said with a teasing smirk.

"And not many make the kind of coin you do either, so consider yourself lucky." The fennec huffed, before calling over his shoulder. "Nick, tread lightly."

"Always, partner." Nick said before he disappeared into the dark workshop, ready to resume his life of scampering across rooftops and snatching coin. He was quite curious about whoever arranged this meeting. It could be the City Watch again, trying to lure him out and capture him. This certainly wouldn't be the first time they'd tried that, but it sure as hell wouldn't be the last, assuming it was a trap.

_Alright then. Let's find out who this contact is._

* * *

The Dunwall Clock Tower. The tallest structure in Dunwall, taller than even Dunwall Tower itself. On any clear day, it was visible from almost anywhere in the city, rising over the semi-permanent haze that cloaked the city.

Situated at the northern edge of the Estate District, the tower massively stood out among the rest of the buildings in Dunwall. Its construction began the same year Esmond Roseburrow - the legendary natural philosopher - revolutionised life Dunwall with his discovery of the application of whale oil, and is thus much more metallic than any other structure in the city; a symbol of the dawning of Dunwall's industrial age. It was one of the great monuments of the city, a symbol of progress and ingenuity. However it had one very annoying design flaw:

It's ladder was not designed for rabbits.

Judy let out an exhausted sigh as she climbed her way up the tower. The steps of the ladder she hung from were so incredibly inconvenient; the gap between each one was higher than Judy could reach by a good inch, so she had to jump, grab onto the next one, pull herself up, and repeat the process over and over again.

It didn't matter much, as Judy was more that fit enough to make the climb, but it was still a grueling task nonetheless. Despite the hardship, she would make the climb a hundred fold just to make sure that the Empress was safe.

The Royal Protector stopped as she climbed up another step before quickly taking in her surroundings. She had already climbed up most of the tower, with only a few more steps to go, but those few seemed incredibly daunting, considering how much she'd climbed already.

She thought briefly that maybe she should've arranged for a different meeting place with the so called Shadow Fox - some place that was less difficult for her to reach.

But that would potentially put her in danger, as any place that was easy for her to reach would also be easy to reach by whoever was after the Empress's life, if that was their true intent.

Climbing the clock tower shouldn't be that difficult of a task for the Shadow Fox, if his skills were to be believed. It was said that he could reach a three story rooftop with almost supernatural speed. Some of the older members of the Royal Guard - many of whom had been promoted from the City Watch - even claimed that he could shapeshift into other types of foxes to cover his tracks, leading many to assume he was marked by the Outsider.

Judy herself never put much stock in those old stories about the Outsider, corrupting the common mammal from the shadows. It just seemed like a load of superstitious nonsense to her; a ploy to gather folks against a common enemy. The Abbey of the Everymammal was dedicated to rooting out followers of the Outsider and bringing them into the light, usually at the point of a sword.

To her, these stories about the Shadow Fox were just that; stories. They were probably started by the thief himself just as a way to scare members of the Watch and make his job easier. A clever tact.

Judy did have to admit, his skills did seem impressive. Most would consider it suicide to break into a place like the Academy of Natural Philosophy, but rumor had it that the fox managed to slip in and out without so much as a peep from any of the guards, with a haul of several hundred coins worth of remedies and potions. Small change compared to the price the handful of blueprints for never before seen technologies would fetch on the black market.

How he'd managed to sneak past the Watch so many times was beyond her - she was confident she could track down one thieving fox and bring him in if she were so inclined - but she had bigger concerns at the moment than one thieving fox.

The Empress's life was in danger. Judy needed to root out the danger, and at the same time needed to investigate the source of the plague at the behest of the Empress. She couldn't be in two places at once, so she would need a little help from someone just as skilled as her.

Judy quickly checked to make sure her gear has survived the climb so far. Her sword was tucked away in its sheath, ready to be drawn at any moment. Her pistol sat in it's holster at the back of her waist, loaded and ready to fire thanks to the miniature whale oil tank inside each bullet, yet another innovation by Anton Sokolov. Her spyglass was resting inside her coat pocket; a gift from the Empress in preparation of Judy's coming journey. Finally, a bag full of coin for the Shadow Fox. Only a small taste of what was to come should he take the job.

Once she knew that she had everything she needed, she resolved to stay as inconspicuous as possible. It wouldn't be good for the Empress if it was made know that the Royal Protector had made a deal with one of the most wanted mammals in Dunwall, which was another reason she had chosen the clock tower; it was fairly inaccessible to most. She pulled up a cowl around her face; a useful tool for her when trying to go unnoticed.

With only a few more more feet to climb, Judy continued her way up until she reached the hatch that lead to the clock tower's main platform. With a hard push, she opened the hatch and climbed up.

She took a moment to catch her breath before looking around. The platform was empty, save for herself. No fox in sight.

_Give him time, Judy. It's not eleven yet, he still has-_

Her thoughts were cut off by the clock tower's loud bell, signalling the passing of another hour.

"Oh, Outsider's eyes. Of course he's late. Damn thief, wasting my time…" Judy began to grumble to herself.

Or so she thought.

Unbeknownst to Judy, the fox in question had arrived well before the her, resting above the actual clock of the clock tower. Nick couldn't help but chuckle at the words of whoever was below him. He had been waiting here for almost thirty minutes now, and here she was complaining about _him_ being late.

" _Alright",_ he mused, " _Time to make myself known."_

Nick pulled his hood over his head and brought his cowl up to his face. It would have to do until Piero was finished with the modifications to his mask. In a single swift motion he hopped down from the top of the tower, landing gracefully on one of the smaller platforms that extended over the tower's edge.

"Well, that's rude… I was quite punctua-" he began to say, before the sight in front of him caused him to freeze.

It was a bunny in a very regal looking coat; a coat designed for someone in service to the Empress. The doe had grey fur, with black fur on the tips of her ears. She had a cowl covering her face, much like himself, but he could still see those eyes. Those incredible violet eyes. He'd remember them anywhere."

"Jud- uh, Lady Protector?" Nick stammered.

"Ah, I see you know who I am already. Seems this thing was a waste of time then." She said, lowering her cowl to reveal the rest of her face. "I assume you must be the Shadow Fox, then?"

This was the first time Nick ever had a chance to see her face up close, and he found it breathtaking. He voice was like a sweet melody, and he found himself struggling to maintain his usual composure.

"Uh… yeah. That's me. The one and only Shadow Fox, at your service" Nick said with a sweeping bow, mentally scolding himself to keep it together.

But Judy was having her own dilemma in her mind as well.

She could see the hints of red fur peeking out from between his hood and cowl, and around his paws and feet. A red and brown tail extending out his backside, swaying lightly in the breeze. She was looking right into his eyes, the same shade of green that the heretic's son had when he came to Dunwall Tower to plead all those years ago; the same shade that the mysterious fox on the rooftop had when she first arrived in Dunwall. She didn't know why, but the image of them had been burned into her mind.

_Could it be…? No, it's impossible. It can't be the same fox… stop, stay focused, Judy. You need to protect Jessamine._

"I uh… see you got my message then. I'm sure you're wondering what this is, uh… about?" she said, making another mental note to stay focused.

"Yes. indeed." The Fox began, shifting his body into a more relaxed position. It's strange. One would think he'd be more defensive. "In truth, I did expect someone of nobility to be here tonight, but to see the Royal Protector herself? I'm honored." He bowed his head to her in a surprisingly respectful manner.

"Well, you're not exactly what I anticipated either. I was expecting more of a…"

"Cutthroat type who hovers over you with a dagger behind his back while snarling his teeth the whole time?" the fox asked.

Judy couldn't help but chuckle in response

"Sure, something like that."

 _That laugh…_ Nick thought. It was short, but it sounded so joyous. He wished he could hear it again.

"Anyway, as you might have guessed, I have a job for you. One that suits someone of your… particular skills."

"Oh? And what exactly does the Empress need from a thief? Need me to steal some silverware for Her Imperial Majesty?"

"Not quite, though I will say that silver is involved. How does investigating the potential source of the rat plague sound to you?"

Judy could tell that the fox was taken aback by that. Definitely not what he was expecting.

"Well, that sounds like you're asking me to get infected. What am I after?"

"A ship currently resting in the Flooded District named _The Silver Sea_. A medium sized vessel that we believe brought the plague's original carriers. We want you to go to the ship and find anything that might link it to the plague. The captain's log, cargo manifests …anything like that."

"The Flooded District, eh? Quite the tall order; you want me to brave the river krusts, weepers - and if they don't kill me, the whalers will certainly try. I assume you have the coin?" the Fox asked.

"Indeed I do." Judy said, reaching for the bag of coin on her belt, and presenting it to the black clad fox. "Three hundred coin, plus double that when the job is done. Does that sound fair to you?"

"Absolutely". The Fox replied. Judy tossed the bag to him, which he caught and immediately opened and started counting.

After a minute, he closed the bag and attached it to his own belt. "Alright. So after I get this… evidence, where shall I find you? You are leaving tomorrow, are you not?"

"Hmph. You are well informed, Fox. If you manage to find it before my departure, meet me at Dunwall Tower. I can guarantee you will not be harmed if the information is sufficient."

"And if the information is not sufficient?"

"Then I believe we'll have to put your legendary skills to the test." Judy replied with a small smirk.

"Well, that's hardly incentive … but fair enough. And if you're gone by the time I find it?" The Fox asked.

"Then you are to deliver it to the Royal Guard. I will make sure they are made aware of your arrival, and they will not harm you, so long as you pose no threat to the Empress."

"Yes… We certainly wouldn't want any harm to come her way, would we?" The Fox grumbled, raising an alarm in Judy's head. He instinctively reached for her sword, leaving it sheathed for now.

"What was that? No love for the Empress, I take it?" Judy asked, any expressions she had before suddenly replaced by anger and suspicion.

Nick was quick to realize his mistake, and didn't want to upset her any further.

"Calm yourself. I mean no harm to the Empress. And in any case, it's bad business to bite the paw that feeds you. I'm… well, let's just say I'm an outspoken critic of hers, and leave it at that."

Judy could sense the bitterness radiating off of the fox. Something had happened to him. Something involving Jessamine.

_Could it… no, no. Stop, Judy. You need to get to that warehouse. No time to wonder. If you're lucky, you can ask about it later._

"You and many others. And none of them see the whole picture." she said pointedly, turning away from the Fox for a moment. "I trust you shall leave as soon as possible?" No answer came. "Hello? Are you-" She turned to see no fox in sight, just the open hatch leading down to the clock tower's ladder. She looked down to see that the fox was there, descending at a rapid pace, already halfway to solid ground.

"Hmph. Sly fox." She said to herself, before starting the descent herself.

Nick on the other hand couldn't keep the smile off his face as he raced down the ladder.

"Oh, what a beautiful bunny…"


	4. Cloak and Dagger

Judy pulled the hood of her coat close around her, shivering as she walked quickly down the cobblestone street at the south end of Kaldwin's Bridge. She'd been across the bridge on a number of occasions, but always surrounded by the normal entourage of Royal Guards that accompanied the Empress as she made her way around the city. She'd always been on high alert, scanning the windows and the crowds for sudden movement. And every time they crossed, the Empress would bid Judy to relax. She never did.

A part of her hoped she'd be able to ease some of the tension that had her wound tight. But walking the streets of Dunwall alone at night brought with it a different sense of unease. She couldn't shake the sensation that she was being watched.

Of course, her finely tuned hearing had yet to alert her to any danger from the darkened buildings that towered above, lining both sides of the promenade that stretched from the north bank of the Wrenhaven to the south. She had only encountered the usual: beggars rummaging through the refuse discarded in the alleys, a few tough looking dock workers smoking and sipping at whatever swill their stills had produced, and the scurrying of a small group of feral rats.

Of all the victims of the plague, Judy's heart ached for them most of all. It had done so much damage to the city, but she wasn't sure if the rodent population would ever recover. So many rats, driven to an unthinking and unfeeling feral state. Judy shuddered at the thought, and couldn't help but chaffe whenever the Spymaster droned on about measures to protect the populace from the feral rats - as though the rats and mice weren't citizens of the city, weren't worth saving.

As much as Judy felt obligated to complain about being sent on a tour of the Isles, she fully understood and was glad that Jessamine cared strongly enough to send Judy. It was her duty to protect the Empress, but she would be more than happy to find something, anything to help cure this damned plague.

It was all the more reason for her to quicken her pace and make haste to the warehouse mentioned in the letter. The sooner she could rule out the threat to the Empress, the sooner she could be off. And hopefully, she could find something to help Dunwall.

Judy had drawn close to the gate at the south end of Kaldwin's Bridge, and - though a blanket of fog had begun to settle over the city - the rabbit had no trouble spotting a bored looking deer wearing a watch uniform, slumped over in chair and snoring loudly. Judy couldn't help but roll her eyes; how the Watch got away with hiring guards that were so lax in their duty was beyond her. Even when Judy walked right up to him, the deer remained fast asleep.

With a huff, Judy drew her blade with a practiced motion and placed the tip to the neck of the cervine watchmammal. Her ears caught the sharp intake of breath that accompanied the deer's eyes bolting open. Immediately the deer's eyes widened in shock.

"P-please … I don't …" he stammered.

"Were I a Hatter or one of the Bottle Street gang …" Judy let the implication hang in the air. "But lucky for, you I am not."

Judy withdrew her blade and gestured to the gate.

"I need to pass through. I'm on urgent business for the Crown."

The guard looked to the gate and back at the rabbit while a hoof rubbed at his neck.

"Oh … of course!"

The deer stood up a bit too quickly, lurched his way towards the gate mechanism and reached for a lever that operated the gate.

"Aren't you going to ask for some identification?"

The deer froze, before he slowly turned to face Judy.

"No, need m'lady. I wouldn't dare impede the Lady Protector."

Judy swore under her breath. Her hood and cowl had done nothing to conceal her identity. She really wished she had a mask or something. The guard opened the gate and she stepped through to the south bank of Dunwall.

She was close to Milton's now, and Judy resisted the urge to sprint. She glanced behind her to the north bank of the river, hoping to spot the face of the clocktower. She was relieved to find she had plenty of time to get to the warehouse, but doubted arriving early would speed things along. Clandestine meetings required patience, which was never the rabbit's strong suit.

But if it meant sussing out a potential threat to the Empress, Judy was more than willing to check her impatience.

* * *

Nick sat, perched on the gate separating the Flooded District from the rest of the city, and looked down at the brackish water that covered the streets and alleys of the buildings ahead. The district had seen better days, that much was clear.

The Flooded District was once known as the Rudshore Financial District, and was a favorite haunt of the Shadow Fox. It had been home to a host of nobles and wealthy business mammals, who built ever more elaborate homes and mansions. The fanciest and most expensive shops could be found here selling the latest contraptions and elixirs from the Academy, tailors and clothiers sold the latest in fashion, and bank after bank had established vaults and reserves in the district. It was everything a thief of Nick's caliber could hope for - a one stop shop for an easy profit.

But in the years since the levees had broken, Rudshore had quickly decayed into a ghost town of skeletal buildings. Every plan to drain the district and repair the damage fell through, and the Rat Plague made any coordinated efforts pointless. Why bother fixing one part of the city when the whole thing was starting to rot from within?

Now walled off from the rest of Dunwall, the only denizens of the district were Weepers slowly succumbing to the plague, feral rats, and the Whalers. It was a far cry from the former center of nobility.

From what Nick could gather, the ship he had been hired to investigate had been moored at the Greaves Refinery when the district had flooded. He was familiar with the building, in no small part because of the fame of its owner. Roseburrow Industries may have revolutionized industry across the Isles with the use of whale oil as a power, but none of it would have been possible if not for the infamous Greaves Whale House.

The company had grown quickly, absorbing its rivals until it held a monopoly on the refinement of whale blubber into usable oil. At its height, it had employed hundreds of workers in the district, who wore a distinctive leather coat and gas mask to protect them from noxious fumes. It was no secret, though, that Greaves overworked and underpaid its workers - none of whom could possibly afford to live in Rudshore, not on a Greaves wage. And yet despite the low pay and dangerous workplace, there were over a hundred applicants for every job. It was steady work that didn't require any education or special labor. Just brute strength and the fortitude to endure the horrible work conditions.

But despite its wealth and influence, the company had been unable to weather the flooding of Rudshore, having centralized all of its facilities in the district. When the water came in, it signaled the end of the Greaves company. Its rivals were quick to absorb the market share, and the Rat Plague made any hope the company had of recovering impossible.

Now the building was a bloated corpse, just like the whales whose bodies were hauled into the refinery to be ripped apart and refined into oil.

Nick looked up to the skeletal remains of the apartments and houses that were close to the gate, deciding how best to navigate the district. He didn't fancy taking a swim; the water would not only be freezing, but infested with hagfish and eels. The district was also teeming with river krusts - nasty clam-like creatures who spat a corrosive acid at anything that drew near. His best bet would be to keep to roofs and whatever remained of the upper floors of the buildings. This would help him avoid both the river krusts and the weepers who gathered in whatever dry places they could find.

But the roofs of the district were the same places that Daud's Whaler's were said to lurk.

There were many rumors about Daud's gang: stories of the occult, blood sacrifices and dark rituals to appease the Outsider. Nick put no stock in them; as far as he was concerned, they were just another gang - no different from the Hatters or the Bottle Street gang. But the fox did have to give Daud some credit, he fostered quite the daunting reputation. Nick suspected the whaler's masks played a large role in intimidating those who saw them.

The fox jumped down onto the roof of a nearby apartment and began to creep across. The lights in the district had long since stopped working, but Nick's keen eyes and natural night vision made this no great obstacle.

As Nick moved from building to building, he found himself moving with much greater care and caution than he normally used. There was something foreboding about the district, an air of oppression that weighed on his shoulders. Nick normally thrived on the sense of danger Dunwall gave him, but he found nothing pleasant about this district. The sooner he found the _The Silver Sea_ and got out of this cursed place the better.

* * *

The weather had taken a turn for the worse - dark storm clouds had blown in from the sea and brought with them a rain that came down in fat, wet drops. It clattered and banged against every roof in the city, collecting into gutters and pouring out onto the streets. Nearly soaked through, Judy stood with hood raised in front of the Milton Industries warehouse; a gray, square building, the warehouse was unremarkable in a city filled to the brim with squat stone buildings.

The front doors of the warehouse were locked, naturally - the majority of the district had been condemned due to the plague. The rabbit considered her options; she could try to break down the door - quite the task for the diminutive bunny - but that would take an inordinate amount of time. And if her mysterious benefactor was already inside, there had to be another way in.

Glancing around, the rabbit noticed an alley to the side of the warehouse. She took a few steps to the side to look down the alley, and immediately noticed a fire escape halfway down the side of the building, leading down from the second and third stories. Though Judy could see the ladder was retracted, she smiled.

She took a few quick steps into the alley until she was standing roughly underneath the fire escape, which hung about eight feet over her head, dripping water into a puddle on the cobblestones below. The rabbit turned to face the opposite wall of the alley, about ten feet away, before crouching into a runner's stance.

Judy sprinted at the opposite wall, leaping halfway across the alley. Twisting herself around, she hit the far side of the alley feet first, coiling like a spring about six feet up the wall. Pushing with every bit of strength in her powerful legs, the rabbit launched herself back towards the fire escape. She sailed clear over the alley, easily catching onto the retracted ladder and pulling herself up. Judy looked down at the alley below her and smiled; sometimes there was an advantage to being a rabbit.

Climbing up the steps of the fire escape, Judy noticed a window near the top of the building that was angled open, the rain sliding down the face of its pane. She jumped up to catch the lip of the open window, and pulled herself inside.

The interior of the warehouse was dark and musty, the smell of stagnant water and the acrid smell of rust rose to greet Judy. The floor of the warehouse was littered with stacked crates covered in tarps, or various lengths and shapes of steel; girders, tubes, and plates. But in the center of the building, a table and chairs was placed and conspicuously lit with the light from an oil lamp on the center of the table.

If this were a trap, that was the bait.

Judy felt a strong urge to bolt, but quickly suppressed it. Her life meant nothing if it could help save her Empress, her friend. Instead, she closed her eyes and listened.

She heard the clinking and chiming of the chains that hung down from winches on a pair of rails that ran the length of the warehouse. The dripping of water into a thousand small pools. The whistling of a draft through the window behind her. Nothing seemed out of place.

Taking a deep breath, Judy drew her sword and retrieved her pistol from its sheath. Hopping down from her perch on the window, she strode tall and purposeful to the table and chairs. Her ears twitched from side to side, eager to catch any sound.

As she reached the table she heard … something. It was quiet, but she distinctively heard a _whoosh_ , like a smith blowing out the air in a bellows.

Wheeling around to face the source of the noise, Judy held her sword at the ready and cocked the hammer of her pistol.

"You won't need those. As you can see, I am unarmed." A rich, feminine voice called as its owner emerged from the darkness. She had her paws raised above her shoulders, as to help prove her previous statement.

The figure in front of Judy seemed to be a canine, smaller than a wolf. As the figure stepped forward, arms wide and empty, Judy noted that the figure's head was shaped differently than any wolf. Not a canine, but a hyena - striped, judging from the dark markings on the figure's otherwise chocolate fur. The hyena was dressed in a red coat, a leather bandolier and belt. Brown eyes carefully regarded the rabbit across a black furred muzzle.

"Who are you?" Judy asked, as she carefully lowered her sword and assumed a defensive stance.

"The one who called you here."

Judy narrowed her eyes in suspicion, an act that caused the ghost of a smile to cross the hyena's face.

"Very well, if you're looking for a name … you can call me Meagan."

"An alias, I assume?"

"Of course."

The hyena moved slowly and deliberately towards the chair and tables, sitting across the table from Judy.

"Now, we're both busy mammals. Let's get to business." Meagan said, gesturing to the other chair.

Judy couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down her spine at the way the hyena pronounced business. Reluctantly, she sheathed her sword and holstered her pistol before hopping onto the the chair across from Meagan.

"Yes, let's be quick about this. Tell me who threatens the Empress - names, plans, everything. In exchange, the Crown will see to it you are well rewarded."

The hyena gave a small smile and said, "It's not that simple."

"And why shouldn't it be?" Judy pressed, "You'll forgive me if I doubt you're motivated by patriotism. If you're after money, I can guarantee you'll be generously compensated. If you're after power ... the Empress never forgets a friend."

Megan laughed hollowly.

"I don't need money, and that's the problem - your Empress has too many 'friends'. No better guise for an assassin than a friendly face."

Judy groaned in frustration, and felt her ears fall behind her.

"I don't have time for games. You brought me here for a reason, so what do you want?"

"I want you to stop a mistake before it's made."

_Well that's completely unhelpful,_ Judy bemoaned internally.

As if sensing Judy's irritation the hyena continued, "Look, I have no interest in seeing Jessamine die. City's got enough problems. But if I tell you what I know - I'm involved. So rather than risk my own neck, I'm here to tell you where to find some answers."

"You already involved yourself. You brought me here."

"You're not nearly as important as you think. To them, you're just a piece on the board."

"And who's 'them'?"

"You'll see soon enough, Lady Protector. Now, this is the mammal you're looking for."

Megan reached into her coat and withdrew a rolled piece of paper, which she offered to the rabbit. Eying the hyena suspiciously, Judy cautiously reached across the table and unrolled the paper. Drawn on it was a picture of a panther that Judy immediately recognized.

"Lord Manchas? Are you saying he's involv-" Judy heard another _whoosh_ and when she looked up from the paper, Megan was gone.


	5. Bait and Switch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Death of the Outsider is amazing. And it got us thinking … Man! We should really write something about Dishonored.
> 
> At which point we remembered that we already had, and figured we should update it.
> 
> So we did.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Oh, and we have a new co-author - Sarcasm. He’s a guy

_ "Restrict roving feet that love to trespass. They pay no heed to the boundary stones of other men's fields. They wander into foreign lands, only to return with their soles blackened by iniquity. Where have you strayed that destruction now comes behind you? Would you walk across burning coals or broken glass? Then why do you prowl into the homes of the honest, or into the dens of hidden things, for the result is the same. You will fall into the Void! Instead, rest your feet on a firm foundation so that when the winds of the Outsider shriek against you, you will stand firm and not be overthrown." _

 

__ -The Fourth Stricture _ _

* * *

 

Nick felt the world lurch as a roof tile suddenly slipped out from under his foot. The moment of reeling vertigo that followed was punctuated by the sound of collapsing wood as he crashed through rotted remains of the apartment roof he was attempting to traverse.

His finely honed instincts kicking in, Nick tucked his legs and tail into his body to turn a stunning impact with the moldy floor below into a graceful roll. A choking cloud of dust and mold spores rose from the floor below the collapsed roof, billowing up into the moonlit night.

Catching his breath, Nick surveyed his surroundings. He was in the remains of what was likely the penthouse apartment for the building, though its current state bore little resemblance to its former opulence. Several inches of tepid, brackish water had collected in the corners, soaking into and bloating the fine hardwood floor. Finely crafted furniture - most with rotten sheets draped over them - littered the room at various angles. And face down in a pool of dirt and muck, the corpse of a weeper - a badger - bobbed slightly from the waves caused by Nick’s fall.

Nick cursed himself for being so clumsy, a rarity for him. The fox had felt unnerved as he leapt from roof to roof, as though he were being watched or followed. Against his better judgment, he had felt himself rushing through the district. 

“ _ The only thing rushing ever gets you is killed, _ ” was the sage advice Finnick had told him all those years ago. Nick was glad the fennec wasn’t around to see his blunder.

Turning his attention to the weeper in the corner, Nick noted the mangey patches of fur that revealed bloody sores across the badger’s pelt. The fox shuddered; the plague was a horrible way to die.

Nick was about to turn away and find a way to climb back up when a patch of corroded flesh and exposed bone on the weeper caught his attention. There was only one thing that Nick knew that could have caused injuries of that kind.

River krusts.

The fox whipped around to see a group of five river krusts had adhered themselves to the remains of a four post bed. The foul, oyster-like mollusks began to vibrate, their armored plates croaking and rattling - the only warning the krusts gave before they lobbed gobs of an acidic mucus towards the fox.

Nick dived to the side to avoid the brunt of the attack but felt droplets of the corrosive bile spatter against his cloak. As the fox came to his feet, he swore - he’d have a half a dozen holes to patch when he got back.

A quick glance back revealed the mass of angry river krusts were already preparing to spit another salvo of acid, so Nick decided to make a hasty retreat. Noting a half-rotted door swollen in its frame, Nick charged towards it shoulder first. The door buckled with a splintering crack, and the fox found himself standing on the upper level of ruined foyer. Two staircases descended on either side of the room leading down. The bottom of the room was flooded, choked with stale water, ruined furniture and flotsam carried in by the tide rising through the sunken streets of the district. A shattered gold and crystal chandelier lay half submerged in the muddy water, having long since fallen from the ceiling.

And lining the walls and floors of the room in clumps were several dozen river krusts, all of which began to rattle in agitation as they summoned their noxious bile.

_ Wonderful. This is just my luck,  _ Nick noted wryly.

Three nearby krusts launched acid at the fox, forcing him to dash to the side in a scramble. His senses on full alert, Nick quickly scanned for a way out.

A dash down the stairs to the front of the foyer would expose him to the entirety of the nest of krusts. While Nick had faith in his abilities to dodge, he was pretty sure he’d take more than one direct hit if he tried that approach; and truth be told, Nick didn’t relish the thought of acid burns.

Going back the way he came reduced the number of krusts to contend with, and Nick briefly considered trying to kill the few krusts in the bedroom he’d fallen into. Nick had a quiver full of arrows, but using them on the armored monstrosities was problematic. Their carapace would deflect any shot from a distance, and they only revealed their fleshy core when preparing to spit at anything that got close.

A second wave of acid globs came arcing over the splintered remains of the railing towards Nick, who again leapt to the side.

_ Whatever I do, I’ve gotta do it quick,  _ Nick thought.

Glancing up, Nick noted a chain that once held the chandelier dangling from the ceiling over the center of the foyer.

_ Perfect. _

Crouching down briefly, Nick dashed forward and used the railing in front of him as a springboard to launch himself off the second floor of the balcony towards the dangling chain. Several gouts of acid shot towards the balcony from which he’d leapt. Nick latched onto the chain, his momentum swinging him forward towards the front of the foyer. At the height of the chain’s swing, Nick let go and tucked his legs in as he soared over the main mass of the river krusts below. 

Landing into a roll Nick immediately forced his way through the door in front of him, only to stop short as he found himself on the edge of a splintered floor hanging over the collapsed ruins of this corner of the apartment building. Over the pile of ruined wood and masonry, Nick could see out into the waterlogged street - towering at the end of the street stood the Greaves Refinery.

_ Finally, a break!  _

Nick picked his way forwards around the gaping hole to the street below until he reached a wall opposite where he came in. Using the exposed stone, brick, and timber, Nick climbed his way back to the roof of the apartment building. Pausing for a moment at the top, he turned to look back at where he’d fallen.

He could clearly see now that the hole he’d fallen through was too regular in shape to be natural. It was a clean cut rectangle in the roof, and Nick saw the splintered edges of the thin wood he’d crashed through.

_ Very clever,  _ Nick thought as he examined the hole.

Someone had cut a hole in this roof, replaced it with a flimsy pallet of wood with just enough strength to hold the roof tiles that they used to cover up the trap. From above, it would appear just like any other section of the roof. But add enough weight, and the whole thing would collapse.

It had to be the Whalers, Nick reasoned. They’d have known about the den of river krusts below. Hell, maybe they put them there in the first place. And if they set their trap here, it meant that this roof was someplace that Whalers didn’t want mammals traversing.

Glancing around at the nearby buildings, Nick noted two directions he could easily get to from this roof. The first led him towards his goal; the refinery and the Silver Sea. The second towards the old Chamber of Commerce building.

Nick had heard that what few sightings there had been of the Whalers had been concentrated around the Chamber building. With this and the trap protecting one of the roof approaches to said building seemed to suggest that the Whalers might be holed up there.

The fox made a mental note to avoid that area when returning - from what Nick had heard about Daud, the Knife of Dunwall was unlikely to appreciate uninvited guests.

Pressing forward, Nick picked his way from roof to roof towards the Greaves Refinery, being extra careful to avoid any suspicious patches of loose tiles. As he crested the top of an old warehouse, he sighted his quarry.

The Silver Sea was listing to the side in its mooring at the refinery, its mast jutting out over the rusty cranes and abandoned machinery once used to load and unload vessels. The paint on the gray metal hull of the ship had begun to fade at its base where the waves and tides lapped at it, but Nick could clearly see the serial number of the ship painted in bold white letters: HW0-080

_ There you are!  _ Nick thought.

The warehouse he stood on top of was at the end of a quay, across a small inlet from the refinery. The fox didn’t fancy a swim through the hagfish-infested water, so he began considering alternative approaches.

Spying a crane on the near side of the refinery, Nick reached into his quiver, removed a grappling arrow and tied a thin length of rope to the end. With a practiced hand, the fox notched the arrow to his bow and drew back. Slowing his breathing to help steady his arm, Nick carefully aimed and fired. The arrow soared across the gap, trailing the rope behind. It clattered into one of the metal trusses of the crane, prompting the mechanism of the arrowhead to deploy its hooks.

Nick pulled on the rope until it was taut, making sure that the grappling hook had securely caught. He tied off the end of the rope to a metal beam jutting out from the warehouse roof, and gingerly tested to see if the tightrope would hold his weight.

It held.

With the balance and grace befitting the legendary Shadow Fox, Nick quickly walked across the rope and descended the crane to the refinery pier.

Getting aboard the  _ Silver Sea _ wasn’t difficult. There was still a gangplank connecting the deck of the ship to the pier, and Nick walked aboard easily. Finding his balance on the tilted ship, Nick made his way towards the stern where a metal staircase led belowdecks.

As he began to descend, Nick caught the scent of something putrid in the hold. Choking back a gag, Nick peered into the darkness, his senses on full alert. Weepers were most dangerous in close or confined spaces. If there were any here, Nick had to be very careful lest he wind up infected.

Nick listened intently for a moment. He heard the creaking of the ship as the waves of the sea lapped against it. A slight jingling of chains and the dripping of water. But no movement, no coughing or moaning - a good sign.

The fox took a deep breath of salty sea air and entered the hold of the ship.

Against the interior hull of the ship, Nick saw rows and rows of cages lined from bow to stern. Scores, maybe hundreds of cages only large enough to contain a rabbit at most. And in each of them, the corpses and bones of dozens of rats in rotting piles.

Dumbfounded, Nick covered his nose and stared in horror.

“Outsider’s eyes,” he swore. “What the hell  _ is _ this?”

Nick forced his gaze away from the macabre sight and gingerly made his way towards the bow to where the captain’s quarters should be. He tried to ignore the smell and focus on the task at hand but felt some kind of numbness come over him as he processed what he’d found.

A ship, filled to the brim with the bodies of hundreds of rats in cages. If  _ this _ was the ship that brought the plague, it was no accident.

Nick shuddered at the thought and walked to the door to the captain’s quarters which he found slightly ajar.

_ One less lock to pick, I guess,  _ Nick thought and pushed the door open.

The captain’s quarters were spartan by the standards of landlubbers, a small bed was built into the side of the wall with a rack of storage above. A desk was bolted to the starboard wall with a small lamp and chair, and a washbasin and mirror were likewise bolted to the port. An oil portrait of a sea otter in captain’s garb hung over the desk.

Nick walked up to the desk and began rifling through a number of books and papers to find the ship’s log. Finding a tome that looked promising, he opened it to a page at random.

_ 19th Day, Month of Nets - 1836 _

_ Field Notes:  _

_ We discovered a most fascinating property of the blue blooms of the crocus we discovered last week (Reynolds informs me he has classified it somewhere in the Midnicampum genus). Though foul to the taste and toxic to ingest (Note: test future samples on subjects first), if the flowers are crushed into a paste and their essences distilled, an elixir can be made which has a most profound effect on the imbiber! _

Unsure of what to make of this, Nick quickly scanned through a few more pages. It seemed to be a survey of various varieties of Pandyssian flora and fauna. Disinterested, Nick set the book aside and returned to looking through the other papers for several minutes before realizing that the ship’s log was missing.

_ Someone beat me to it,  _ Nick thought and cursed his luck. He’d come all this way for nothing, it seemed. Sighing, Nick started to case the room; maybe he’d find a few baubles to pawn or something else to show the Lady Protector’s men.

_ Okay, Captain. If I were you, where would I keep my valuables?  _ Nick wondered as he glanced around the room.

Nick glanced back at the portrait in front of him, admiring the otter’s bushy whiskers and fine spectacles. A small smile crossed Nick’s face. The fox reached out to lift the painting off the wall, revealing an inset safe.

_ Every time. Do these idiots think nobody’s ever hidden a safe behind a painting before? _

Nick opened a pouch on his belt to pull out a set of lockpicks and brought them up to the safe. But as he began to prod the locking mechanism, he found that it wasn’t set. Nick frowned in confusion, but pulled gently on the door of the safe.

It swung open to reveal a single folded sheet of paper. Nick unfolded it and read the note that was written there.

_ If you’re looking for the ship’s log, don’t bother. You can tell your boss that I’ve kept it as a little insurance that he’ll keep his end of the deal. If everything goes smoothly, I’ll give it back when I get paid. _

__ -Daud _ _

_ Fantastic, just wonderful,  _ Nick brought a paw to rub at his temple. _ Now the Knife’s involved? _

This job was turning out to be much more than he’d bargained for, and he had half a mind to just abandon the contract. But the Shadow Fox never reneged on a contract, and Nick’s pride wouldn’t let him walk away. Still, he’d need to ask for a lot more coin if he was going to …

Nick stopped himself.  _ Am I seriously considering this? _

The fox glanced over his shoulder through the door to the rows of cages. It was clear this was part of something big, especially if Daud was involved. And the note implied a third party was at play and responsible for the horror aboard the Silver Sea.

Nick realized he couldn’t walk away, if for no other reason than because Hopps wouldn’t want him to.

_ Well, I guess it’s time I pay a visit to the Chamber,  _ Nick thought.

* * *

 

Judy looked up at the glowing face of the Clock Tower. It was a little past three in the morning, and she cursed under her breath for having to cross Kaldwin’s Bridge a second damned time. On a normal day before the plague, it would have taken around an hour to get from one side of the bridge to another. But Dunwall was anything but normal these days, so strict security measures have been put in along Kaldwin’s Bridge to control movement through the city in an attempt to halt the spread of the plague.

If the situation had allowed it, she would’ve taken a railcar all across the city for the sake of time, but much of the rail system was in disrepair ever since the plague came. The rats that were affected by it became very fond of chewing on anything they could get their paws on: be it trash, bodies, or electrical wire. Plus, there wasn’t a whole lot of motivation from the common folk to get it repaired. The Nobles of the city don’t make much of a fuss about it, as the railways in and around the Estate District still worked for the most part.

Judy shook her head. She knew she could’ve made better time moving through the city, but in truth, she still liked having her paws on the ground more than anything. It would let her jump into action at a moments notice, and didn’t attract nearly as much attention as one of the railcars would. And it reminded her of her days roaming the streets of Karnaca, running with street urchins and looking for fights.

If Judy’s memory was correct, Lord Manchas’ estate should be just down the street from where she was now. The sooner she got information from him, the sooner she could be back at the Empress’ side and ready to thwart whatever plots - real or imaginary - might threaten her.

Admittedly, her knowledge on Lord Manchas was rather lacking. She remembered occasionally seeing the panther at some of the Empress’ annual balls. Most nobles in the city always tried to attend, mostly to show off their wealth and power under the auspices of expressing their gratitude to the Empress. And in truth, the main reason Judy didn’t know much about Manchas was because the panther worked closely with the Royal Spymaster, Hiram Burrows.

Judy has always thought of the Spymaster as a very…  _ peculiar _ mammal. When she first arrived at Dunwall Tower as a member of the Royal Guard, she was delighted to see another rabbit in such a respected position. That was, until the third or fourth time that Burrows suggested that the two of them get to “know each other” better.

Luckily, such inquiries stopped when she became the Royal Protector. Being the Empress’ bodyguard was a lifelong commitment. No time so settle down, and if even if she  _ did  _ want to, the last mammal it would be with was the Spymaster. The dark furred rabbit was always a strange combination of nosy and secretive, and while that made for an effective spymaster, it made for a poor mate.

Judy shook the unpleasant thought out of her head, rounded a corner and saw the Manchas Estate finally come into view. It was definitely one of the more lavish buildings in this district; most buildings here were extravagant, (considering almost all of them were owned by nobles) but this one had a certain elegance to its exterior that set it apart.

The three story building was made of a gray-white stone; perhaps in an attempt to evoke the grandeur of Dunwall Tower. The outer wall of the mansion was covered in vines, coaxed there and carefully maintained to give the structure a vibrant - but not overgrown - appearance. Great bay windows and an elaborate balcony overlooked the mansion grounds - a plot of well-kempt and landscaped topiary.

_ Alright, enough gawking. Time to get in there and see what Lord Manchas knows, _ Judy thought.

She considered simply approaching the front gate and demanding to speak with Manchas. The guards would have no choice but to comply, after all. But now was a time to be discrete - if the threat to the Empress’ life truly came from inside Dunwall Tower, and if this panther truly  _ did _ know something, then it would be wise to not give them a chance to hide or destroy any evidence of their plot.

Judy quickly began scanning for any alternative entrances. The main gate was a definite no, thanks to one of Sokolov’s new security measures: the wall of light.

The device consisted of two pylons on either side of a gateway or opening and large metal spires adorned with coils. When connected to a whale oil tank, the coils hummed angrily with electricity, ready to discharge on anything that crossed between the pylons without the proper clearance. If Judy tried to go through without it, she would get burned to a crisp.

She could easily climb over the wall and into the mansion grounds, but that would then require her to sneak her way through the entire mansion to find Manchas. While Judy considered herself quite adept at remaining unseen, it seemed like an extravagant risk at the moment.

Eying the side of the building itself, Judy noticed a balcony with an open window on the fourth floor. A good point of entry - if she could reach it. But from the rabbit’s vantage, it didn’t seem like there was any way to climb the building from the outside. There were no exterior pipes to climb up, and any ledges she could grab onto were too far apart from each other to be of any actual use for climbing.

_ Let’s just keeping looking around, see if I’m missing anything. _

Judy started moving around the exterior of the compound’s walls, making sure to stay out of sight of any guards. Had she known that she would’ve had to break into the home of a wealthy noble after going to the warehouse, she would’ve hired the Shadow Fox to do that as well, but felt confident that this was nothing she couldn’t handle.

When Judy got to the northern side of the exterior wall, she noticed that the street was much more narrow than the other streets around the building. Looking up, she saw that the rooftop of the building across from Manchas’ Estate was much closer as well. Close enough that if Judy got a running start, she was sure she could make it across.

With no hesitation, she made her way across the street and into an alleyway. Eyeing a set of pipes just underneath a dumpster, she leapt into the air, grabbing onto the dumpster and climbing on top. Once she got her footing, she jumped up as high as she could; wrapping her arms around the pipe so she wouldn’t slip. She planted her feet on the wall while still gripping onto the pipe, and began slowly working her way up the building.

As she finally got to the roof, she quickly moved over to the edge, gauging the distance between the two buildings.

_ An easy jump. Just like back home. _

Judy moved over to the other side of the roof, giving herself enough space to gain plenty of speed.

In a flash the rabbit sped across the rooftop, using her powerful legs to launch herself into the air at the last possible second.

With a soft thud, her upper body landed on top of the mansion roof, while her lower half still hung over the edge. She quickly climbed up and dusted herself off before peeking over the edge into the courtyard, making sure that none of the guards had noticed her. True to form, they were still lazily patrolling the courtyard, never venturing a stray look skywards.

Judy quietly made her way over to the side of the building with the open balcony, briefly peeking down to make sure that it was still open; and sure enough - it was.

She hopped down onto the balcony, her soft feet barely making a sound as they hit the concrete - one of the perks of not having paw pads. She instinctively but her paw on her blade, ready to draw it should the need arise.

The room she entered looked to be some kind of study. Only a few oil lamps were on, so the room itself was rather dim and heavy with shadows. A lavish armchair sat across from a sturdy looking desk made from Karnacan oak with a lit cigar sitting in an ashtray, a thin curl of smoke snaked up into the air.

Judy’s ears perked up suddenly. Footsteps were coming in from the hall outside. It was a larger mammal, fast approaching the door to the study.

She acted quickly, moving into the darkest corner she could find so as to remain hidden. If whoever was entering wasn’t Lord Manchas, then she didn’t want to be seen yet.

But as luck would have it, the door opened and a finely dressed black panther entered the room. He lifted his paw to rub his temples, clearly agitated about something. Judy heard him mumble under his breath as he sat down in the armchair.

“What am I going to do…?” Manchas said before taking a quick puff of his cigar.

“Something on your mind, Lord Manchas?” Judy suddenly said, emerging from the darkened corner with her blade drawn.

Upon hearing the sudden voice, the panther practically jumped out of his seat, his eyes wide in panic.

“L-lady Protector? Wh-what are you doing here?” the panther said, now standing with one paw resting heavily on his armchair, a look of unadulterated terror on his face.

“Business of the Crown, your Lordship.” she said, her blade steady in her hand, ready to stop the feline should they try to call for the guards. “I received word that there was an imminent threat to the Empress’ life. A threat that came from within Dunwall Tower itself. I also heard that  _ you  _ might know something about it.” She pointed her blade directly at him to add extra emphasis.

“N-no, please! I didn’t do anything wrong! I was just following orders.” he said, his voice shaky.

“Who’s orders?” Judy asked, moving slowly towards Manchas.

“B-burrows said it was for the safety of the Empire! I’ve always been loyal to the Empire, you know that!” Manchas pleaded, backing up against the wall.

“What? The Spymaster? That damned snake…” Judy spat before pointing her blade at the panther and closing the distance once again. “What is he planning, Manchas?”

“I-I don’t know! He just had me move around some of the guard shifts, make sure that the Empress would be alone. B-but I do know that whatever he’s planning, it’s happening  _ today. _ ”

“Today? When? How?” Judy said as she brought her blade against Manchas’ chest. “Details Manchas, details!”

“Early! I only know it’s going to happen early.” Manchas gulped, “I didn’t know, you have to believe me! If I had any idea Burrows was going to hire-”

Judy’s ears perked up as she heard a soft  _ click  _ coming from the balcony, followed by a stinging  _ ziiiiip  _ and the thudding impact of a crossbow bolt into Machas’ throat. The panther grasped at his neck, trying his best to speak as his lifeblood gushed out around his paws, but nothing but bloodied gurgles came out before he collapsed back into his armchair, his eyes lifeless.

Judy’s head snapped towards the balcony, her eyes landing on a red coated hyena. And though a whaling mask blocked the figure’s face from view, Judy knew she’d been set up.

“Meagan,” Judy growled, drawing her pistol and pointing it at the hyena.

“Sorry Hopps,” the figure said, before vanishing in a sudden  _ woosh  _ that left Judy blinking rapidly in the darkness. “Not this time.”

The rabbit rushed forwards towards the balcony, confirming that they hyena was no longer there. Whatever Meagan’s true intentions were, Judy didn’t have time to care.

She needed to get back to the Empress.


	6. Knifepoint

_On the sixth evening of the Month of Hearths, Rodof came storming into Pieter's home, white-faced and panic-stricken, claiming to have been chased by a group of ruffians wearing the leather suits and vapor masks used by the men working in the whale oil factories. Pieter gave him supper and drink, sending him on his way later in the night. After which, Rodof was never again seen._

__-Excerpt from a journalist's report on organized criminal activity_ _  

* * *

 Nick swore under his breath as he crawled through the mud and congealed whale oil that clogged the interior of a large brass pipe. In many places the pipeline was all but blocked with debris. At several such points, Nick had been forced to get down onto all fours to wriggle through a gap that was just big enough for him. The smell was truly horrific - the sickly-sweet smell of dozens of decomposing rats mixed with salt-water brine and a cloying, moldy and fungal scent.

It was in moments like this that Nick wished he wasn’t a fox. Or at the least, not a red fox; Nick suspected that Finnick had been able to use his smaller size to his advantage, especially in cases like this. But even if Nick were a smaller fox, it would do nothing to overcome the near debilitation that came with having such a sensitive nose in such a rancid place

No - for that, he’d need to be some other kind of mammal. A rabbit, perhaps? Nick’s mind conjured the image of the Lady Protector crawling through the pipe, and he couldn’t help but grin. He doubted that Hopps had ever been in a situation where crawling through mud and rat corpses was required - no doubt it would offend her highborn sensibilities. But in his mind - though clearly unamused as she crawled through the darkness  - the rabbit nevertheless wore a steely grimace of determination.

Nick shook his head to clear his thoughts. Now wasn’t the time for daydreaming, he had a job to do - one that he was sure would test his abilities to the limit.

The Shadow Fox had weighed his options for infiltrating Daud’s base at the Rudshore Financial building. His usual approach would have been to stick to the rooftops of the district, which would afford him a relatively easy path for someone as fleet of foot as Nick. In a normal district, it would also allow him to move undetected by citizens and guards alike. But the Sunken District had no guards, no citizens - only weepers, rats, river krusts, and Daud’s Whalers. And like him, the Whalers knew how to use the ‘thieves highway’ created from the densely packed roofs of the city.

Judging from the trap Nick had blundered into on his way to the refinery, he had little doubt that the Whalers had set up several more to guard any approach to the Financial building. Further, the path from the refinery was all uphill - any sentries would no doubt see Nick well before he saw them.

So Nick had decided to take a covered approach, eyeing the suspended pipeline that once carried thousands of gallons of freshly refined whale oil across the district. It had long since stopped flowing - yet another casualty in the collapse of the district - and in the intervening year had fallen into grave disrepair. But Nick had been confident that he could traverse it without too much trouble, an estimation that he was now cursing himself for as he forced his way through the pipe.

The fox paused to catch his breath. If his sense of direction hadn’t failed him, he had to be getting close to his destination. Just a few more sections of pipe and he should start to look for a way out.

And though he found the smell almost intolerable, Nick was thankful he had a fox’s keen night vision. Periodic cracks and holes in the pipeline provided just enough illumination from the outside for him to see when almost any other mammal would have been enveloped in pitch-black darkness.

Nick pushed forward through the pipe for a few minutes, before he caught sight of something that he was not expecting.

The corpse of a weeper - an opossum, by the looks - lay curled against the wall of the pipe. Nick could see that both of its hands were curled up in front of its head, clutched tightly around something.

Something that was making a unearthly, ghostly noise - a pulsing, rhythmic sound of wind, but laced with a metallic tinge. A sound that Nick was oddly familiar with, though he did not know why.

Chills ran down the fox’s spine, and he barely stopped himself from bolting backwards.

Cautiously, Nick drew closer to the weeper’s corpse, craning his neck to see what it was that the weeper clutched so close to its chest.

Even in the dark, the white whale bone gleamed - a round, polished circle of ivory, studded with rusty iron and a symbol scored in black lines on the surface.

The Outsider’s symbol.

The memories came unbidden - an overseer, holding aloft a sheet of canvas scored in charcoal with that same baleful symbol. The look of shock and agony on his father’s face. The exaltation on the face of that pig Campbell as he threw it down in front of the judge.

Nick couldn’t stop the growl that sounded from deep in his chest. Even so many years later, the pain was too fresh.

Damn the Outsider, damn the world!

Nick kicked the corpse, stiff now with rigor mortis, sending the polished ivory charm sailing into the muck and darkness. The opossum's body slid into the brackish sludge, face first.

Nick was breathing heavily. Ignoring the foul stench of the pipe, the fox remembered Finnick’s lessons; “Breathe, damn it - breathe!” the fennec had told him on a number of occasions.

And in a moment, Nick felt his pulse slow. None of this was helpful - he had to get through this pipe. With a last glance back towards the weeper, Nick spat and turned his back.

The pipe continued for some time, before Nick found a gap large enough to fit through. Upon emerging from the pipe to a wooden platform, Nick blinked as the first rays of the pre-dawn sun curled around the horizon and climbed into the sky.

When his vision cleared, Nick saw a great stone effigy of Jessamine Kaldwin in front of him marking the corner of the triangular Financial building. In her hands, the panthress held a stone scepter symbolizing the justice of the crown.

Nick felt his lips curl into a sneer.

He brought his paws to his eyes to rub away the discomfort, and found himself poised before Daud’s base of operations.

Without delay, the fox reached back into his satchel and drew from it a small vial containing a blue liquid. It was a remedy created by Nick’s craftsman, Piero. The ferret had told him a hundred times to drink the vial if he ever came into contact with any weepers. Nick wasn’t sure the elixir would cure the plague, but figured it would at least lessen the chances of him catching the damn thing. Nick wasn’t usually one to be paranoid, but catching the plague wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. Tossing the empty vial over his shoulder he removed another vial from his satchel, this one containing a red fluid - Sokolov’s elixir, a competing ‘cure’ for the plague. Might as well hedge his bets, Nick figured and swallowed the second vial.

Looking forward, he saw the flooded street below, and an array of wooden platforms - strategically placed - overlooking the various approaches.Nick would need to be careful - he had no doubt that those platforms would be frequented by Daud’s whalers. Looking around his immediate vicinity, Nick spotted a low roof between two larger buildings on his left. A perfect opportunity.

Notching a grappling arrow, the fox took aim and fired. The hook caught on the lip of the roof, and with a tug Nick was certain it had caught. Nick clambered up the rope and shortly found himself lying flat on a roof overlooking the corner of the Financial building.

Below him he saw a ruined building, immediately adjacent to the financial building. Built into the ruined masonry were a set of elevated platforms and walkways, made of wood and corrugated steel. With his trained eye, Nick could just make out a few figures moving amongst the walkways.

Three whalers stood watching the various approaches to the building, clad in their wleather coats and iconic masks. Back before the district flooded, the masks were worn by whale oil refinery workers to prevent them from breathing in the harsh fumes. Now, The Knife of Dunwall had repurposed them as a symbol of his assassins, striking fear into the hearts nobility and commoners alike.

Nick watched them cautiously - he would need to be careful to get past them.

Luckily for the fox, two of the three whalers were looking away from his particular approach. The third, a russet-furred jackal or dingo (judging from the figure’s size and tail), seldom glanced up. Nick could use this to his advantage.

As Nick observed the other two whalers (a badger and a raccoon), he noticed a pattern in their patrol: both would pause at opposite corners of the rough square formed by the raised platform  built around the ruined building. As the three Whalers looked out, none of their eyes would be on Nick.

He began to climb down the side of the building he was on, using its corner to conceal him from the whalers. His claws found small divots and protrusions in the masonry, and he quickly descended to a platform below. He hazarded a glance around the corner, and saw that the two patrolling Whalers were nearing their respective corners.

_Its now or never,_ Nick thought.

In a flash, the fox dashed forward - ever mindful of loose rubble or slick surfaces. A slip or stumble here would spell certain death, either at the hands of an alerted Whaler or from an impact with the street below.

Just as the whalers began to turn to continue their circuit Nick arrived at the stone column of a ruined chimney that jutted out from the corner of the building that supported the platforms. Throwing himself flat against it, Nick let out the breath he had long been holding.

_On a count of five,_ he thought. _One … two …_

Nick’s senses were hyper-aware of the sound of creaking boards under the paws of the whalers, the squeak and groaning of leather coats as they continued their circuit.

_Three … four_

The raccoon whaler was close enough now that Nick could hear the muffled sound of breathing through the mask. In a second the whaler would walk around the corner and spot him for sure.

_FIVE_

Nick dashed around the chimney, only the barest flash of tail visible as the whaler rounded the corner. In the split second that followed, Nick saw that he had timed things perfectly - the two other whalers were all looking away from the fox as he deftly hopped across a small gap between the platform and the edge of the Financial Building. Without a glance behind, Nick slipped through a broken window into the dark interior.

It was cooler inside the ruined building. Though cloying, the damp smell of moldy wood was a relief from the overwhelming smell of brine and fetid water. Inside, two rows of bookshelves covered in dust and debris lined the walls. The tattered remains of a once fine rug covered hardwood, bloated from the water, the finish having long dulled. Ducked down between two shelves, Nick suppressed a sneeze and caught his bearings.

Now that his vision had adjusted to the near pitch black interior, the fox cautiously peeked around the side of the shelf. Dust filtered through the dim, ghostly rays of light that shone in from the moonlit night. Down a long stretch of corridor, Nick could see a flickering patch of warm light reflected on a wall - a candle or whale oil lamp.

_Well, someone’s home,_ Nick noted.

He quickly reached into his pack, pulling out two long strips of cloth. WIth a practiced hand, he wound the strips around his his feet to muffle the sound - he’d lose some traction sure, but that was better than announcing his presence to the world as his claws clacked on hardwood.

The fox crept forward down the corridor towards the light, darting from alcove to alcove and sticking to the shadows as befit his name. Nearing the end of the hallway, Nick was able to make out the remains of filing room. The opposite wall was covered floor to ceiling in cabinets, some opened or missing - the receipts and documents they once contained littered the floor. Several larger cabinets and furnishings were curiously arrayed in a kind of semi-circle around a small chair and table in the center of the room that bore a small whale oil lamp.

Nick noted the long dark shadows cast by the furniture in the flickering light as they formed a perfect path around the circumference of the room.

_Too perfect,_ he thought.

If he could have arranged the furniture in the room himself, Nick couldn’t have made it easier to dash through. Why would the Whalers setup a room like this in the heart of their building? Only a complete novice would be unable to get past.

_Oh, of course!_ Nick realized. _They must use this for training._

He glanced around warily, and after failing to spot anyone pressed forward. Rounding the circle, Nick saw that at the other side of the room debris was piled up to access a small interior courtyard open to the sky. Taking care to tread lightly as he topped the pile to peer into the courtyard, Nick saw an open window on the floor above.

The fox felt his ear twitch as it caught the muffled sound of voices entering the room behind him.

“... done well. Now we will assess your ability to remain undetected.”

“Yes, master.”

Left with no options, Nick quickly ducked down into the courtyard. Eyeing an exposed metal duct, the fox latched on and began to climb. Reaching the top quickly, Nick pulled himself through the window into the room above.

It was another filing room, though much smaller and densely packed with desks and shelves caked in dust. It opened onto another hallway that surrounded a large central room with two levels. Nick quickly checked the hallway for Whalers only to find it empty.

_Where is everyone?_ Nick wondered.

Not one to question a lucky turn, the fox dashed forwards and peered into the central room.

A large desk sat in the back of the room underneath the floor of the second level. It was piled with books and papers, and unlike the damaged furniture in the rest of the building was clearly in good condition. A number of boards sat behind the desk covered in pamphlets, charts, maps, and prominently featuring a handful of drawn portraits - about a half dozen were for wanted criminals, low-life thugs and petty murderers. The rest seemed to feature nobles or political figures. And many of both had red X’s drawn over them.

_This must be where Daud plans his hits,_ Nick reasoned. _If he’s stashed that log anywhere it’ll be here._

The fox crept up to the door to the room and gingerly tested the handle. It was locked.

Nick glanced around furtively, before quickly retrieving a set of lockpicks and setting to work. After a minute of fiddling, he heard the distinctive _click_ of the tumblers aligning and the door cracked open.

_Huh, I expected Daud to have better security than this,_ Nick thought. _But whatever - get in, get the log, get out. The less time I spend here the better._

Nick opened the door just wide enough to slide through and gingerly crept forward. Something about this whole thing was off, and it set him on edge. Stepping carefully to avoid any creaking boards, he crossed the room to the desk.

Glancing warily around the empty room, Nick tried one of the drawers to the desk. When it refused to open, the fox quickly set to work with his lockpicks. This lock was tough, much tougher than the others he’d encountered so far. But the Shadow Fox was no amateur, and after discarding a half dozen broken picks, he at last slid open the drawer of Daud’s desk to reveal a dusty tome, slightly mouldering and smelling of brine and sea salt.

This had to be the ship’s log, Nick reasoned, and he quickly pulled it free. With a quick blow, he removed the coat of dust from the cover. Embossed into the leather binding was the name _Silver Sea._

_Got it!_ Nick exalted, quickly tucking the ship’s log into his pack before looking up.

“Well I’ll be damned. I gotta give you credit, fox. I thought the weepers would get you for sure.”

The voice was deep, a growl almost - dispassionate on the surface, but with a steely edge that belied a barely contained menace.

Yellow, almost gold eyes seemed to glow out of the gloom. The lupine figure was clad in the same leather as his Whalers, but his leather coat was dyed a brilliant crimson. Nick could only assume this to be Daud. Unlike his subordinates, the wolf had no need to conceal his face. The timber wolf’s muzzle was tilted down to allow him to fully scrutinize the fox in front of him.

“Easy there, kit. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” Daud said, the barest hint of amusement in his voice.

Nick panicked, glancing in all available directions for a way out. But no matter where he looked, he was dismayed to find a Whaler, paw at their hip, sword at the ready.

Daud had him surrounded, the crafty bastard.

It all made sense. The lax security, the ease with which he picked the locks. It was a trap, and he’d played right into it.

The only consolation Nick had was that he was still breathing, so clearly Daud didn’t mean to kill him. But the question remained; why was he alive? Nick doubted it was for his good looks and personalty.

Nick weighed his options carefully, deciding to employ tact before anything else.

“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to lure me here, Daud. So what can the Shadow Fox do for you?” Nick bowed dramatically, hoping a show of grandeur would curry some favor.

Daud’s gaze narrowed as he studied the fox. It seemed to Nick that the wolf was always evaluating, weighing the options, considering the outcomes.

At last he said, “Who sent you?”

Nick thought carefully - he could lie and describe any number of mammals that could’ve sent him, or he could tell the truth. Glancing at Daud’s penetrative gaze, Nick decided on the later.

“The Royal Protector. She seemed quite concerned.”

Daud laughed hollowly, “Of course. That rabbit is a fierce protector isn’t she?”

The wolf cocked his head, his gaze turning to Nick, studying his every reaction.

Nick frowned and said, “What is it you want from me? You went to a lot of trouble to lure me here, after all.”

The wolf stared at Nick for a long moment before he said, “Rumor has it the Shadow Fox knows a direct route into Dunwall Tower. One that only the skilled can traverse.”

“And where did you hear this rumor from?”

Daud paused, his gaze narrowing at the fox. A moment passed before he said, “I’ve seen you, on the roof of the waterlock. We’ve been watching for some time. We need somebody like you.”

“Like me?” Nick asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his paw. “Why do you need me?”

“An assassin’s goal is to eliminate a target,” Daud said. “But a thief needs to extract an item and leave undetected.”

The wolf glanced sidelong at the fox before continuing, “We understand you have no love for the the Empress. You can help us get to her with a minimum of exposure. You know my reputation. I will get to my target, one way or another. But you, you could help me get there with the minimum amount of loss of life.”

Daud turned to face Nick directly. “The Knife of Dunwall isn’t the only mammal with a reputation. There are many tales of the Shadow Fox - quiet, in and out … nothing seen but a tuft of red fur.”

The wolf cocked his head and smiled, “I think if there’s anyone in this city who can help me, it’s got to be you … or am I wrong?”

Nick cocked an eyebrow, before asking, “Do I have a choice in the matter?”

Daud laughed hollowly, “What do you think?”

Glancing around him at the sheer number of whalers that surrounded him, Nick could only sigh.

“Seeing as how one choice would end with me being disemboweled, I think I’ll help you.”

“Smart kit,” Daud said, before waving a paw. At this command, half a dozen whalers bowed and turned to leave.

“So…” Nick began. “I hope you’re not expecting charity here…”

Daud let out a small laugh, turning away and moving towards his planning table. “Of course not. You’ll receive more than your fair cut, don’t you worry.”

“Good. Then there’s only one more thing I need to know. Who’s the target?”

The wolf’s gaze was all that shifted, his gold eye fixed on Nick in an instant.

“The Empress … Are you surprised?”

Nick swallowed thickly.

“No, I guess not,” the fox said. “But only her?”

Daud turned to look square at Nick, studying him intently for a moment before replying.

“Only her, no-one else.”

Nick paused for a long minute in thought.

“Ok, I’m in.”


	7. Dishonored

Judy shoved the door of the electric carriage open, ignoring the protests of the polar bear behind her.

"I say, I am now sure to be late for my breakfast soiree! Commodore Sir Raymond Dimitry Medvedev is never late! I'll make sure the admiralty hears about this!" the bear growled angrily at Judy as she bolted out the still swinging door, too focused on her goal to hear a word of protest.

The rabbit had seen it necessary to reroute a passing carriage to ensure that she made it back to Dunwall Tower as soon as possible. The owner put up quite the fuss, but could hardly do anything more than that since Judy was the Royal Protector. It was her right to commandeer any mode of transportation at any time if there was a threat to the Empire that required her attention. It just so happened to be a bonus that the transport belong to a pompous blowhard like Medvedev.

Judy rapidly approached the solitary exterior gate along the north side of Dunwall Tower, passing by several guardsmammals who saluted her as she whizzed past. A bored looking ram in uniform stood squarely in front of the center of the gate, a last line of defense against any who would trespass. He started, but began to speak as Judy moved forward.

"Halt! State your name and business in-"

"Corporal Ramsey!" Judy interrupted. "Surely you are able to recognize me by now?"

"Of course, Lady Protector, but protocol must be followed by all who wish to enter the seat of the throne."

Judy let out a groan. "I don't have time for this, Corporal! I need to enter Dunwall Tower at once!"

"I'm sure you do, but as I said, protocol must be followed. Need I remind you that  _you_  put in these rules yourself, even stating to me personally that there were to be  _no_  exceptions?"

The rabbit let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed her temples, cursing herself for having put such a restriction in place. At the time it had made a lot of sense, but now … well Judy wondered if perhaps it would've been faster to find a boat and use the waterlock instead.

After a few seconds spent grumbling, she spoke up. "The Royal Protector, Lady Judith Laverne Hopps, requesting entry into Dunwall Tower."

"Very well, Lady Protector," the ram said with a salute, moving quickly to the external communications room so that he could telegraph the request to the security inside.

Judy thumped her foot impatiently as the message went through. She knew this wouldn't take very long, but every moment that she wasn't at Jessamine's side was a moment when whatever conspiracy Burrows was wrapped up in could strike.

 _That damned snake,_ she thought. To think - that bastard, who had sworn to serve the Empress with his life, was now plotting to kill her. It made Judy's stomach crawl.

The only thing keeping Judy from ordering the guards to find the Spymaster and lock him in Coldridge Prison was the fact that she had no idea who else was involved. Hiram Burrows, obviously, but who knew how many of the guards he might be working with? She liked to think that such blatantly traitorous acts would be reported by the first guard that Burrows would have tried to collude with, but seeing how the Spymaster seemingly had put into motion a plot to take Jessemine's life  _today_ , that clearly wasn't the case.

Judy didn't know who she could trust, so for now she just needed to find Jessamine and get her to the Imperial safe room.

There was still no sign of Ramsey, causing Judy's foot thumping to increase in intensity.

The rabbit's ears perked up when she hear the shrieking groan of cast iron and rusty hinges. She turned to see a pair of guards lowering a cage that hung from the ramparts. Held within the cage was a bat in tattered rags, who seemed rather surprised that the guards were letting her out. Sudden recognition dawned on Judy.

The winged mammal had been declared a heretic by the Abbey of the Everymammal. The Overseers had demanded the execution of the bat, but Jessamine had long since changed her stance on the treatment of heretics. A simple conviction of heresy was no longer sufficient for the Empress to justify a summary execution. Instead, the condemned were to be sentenced to public humiliation via a lengthy stay in a cage that hung from the walls of Dunwall Tower. The Empress didn't want another heretic's son to come pleading for their loved one's life, a stance Judy found commendable.

"Lady Protector! You may enter!" the corporal finally said, snapping Judy's attention back to the gate.

The rabbit didn't bother to acknowledge the guardsmammal as she passed through the gate, worrying more about Jessemine's safety than formalities with guards. Plus, this was just the first of several checkpoints one had to go through to get access to Dunwall tower by land.

On the other side of the iron gate she had just passed through was a checkpoint station where visitors to the tower would register all items they were bringing with them and prepare for inspection. Beyond that was a large portcullis making sure anyone that had managed to make it past the checkpoint was dead in their tracks if not authorized to proceed. Lastly, the portcullis gave way to a long walkway with elevated positions for guards to watch over any entrants, as a final security step to make sure that nothing had slipped by.

Dunwall tower was a fortress, with not a single point of easy access anywhere to be found. If enemies of the state wanted to make a go for the Empress' life, they would need to fight their way through every last guard in the tower before doing so.

At least, it had  _seemed_ like they would need to. But now, Judy was very aware of the fact that all it took to get a shot at killing Jessamine was to be in her good graces. Once all was said and done, she would need to order a full re-evaluation of everyone in Dunwall tower to determine their loyalty to the Empress.

Now that she was finally within the palace walls, Judy looked up to see faint shafts of brilliant orange peeking through the grey clouds to reflect off the surface of the Wrenhaven in a brilliant array of pastel colors. She knew that at this early hour, Jessamine would already be up, usually enjoying an early morning cup of tea at the gazebo by the garden while Judy played with Emily.

Rushing up the steps two at a time, she made her way towards the tower proper, only to find herself face to face with High Overseer pig stood arms crossed, trying to seem as regal as possible (no small feat given the pig's stout frame and sweaty complexion.)

"Lady Protector! Shouldn't you be at the docks?" Campbell asked, clearly feigning interest.

"Hold still, Campbell!" the gruff voice of Anton Sokolov called. The renowned inventor stood at a canvas, palette in hoof. Judy could see that the yak was in the middle of capturing Campbell's likeness in oil.

"Royal Physician, High Overseer," Judy began. "You'll forgive me but I have neither the time nor desire to exchange pleasantries."

"Fine, suits me," the yak grunted in indifference as the rabbit rushed past to climb the final set of stairs that led to the Gazebo.

Reaching the top, Judy paused to catch her breath for a moment. Looking up she saw - silhouetted against the glare of the morning sun off the Wrenhaven - the graceful, slender form of Empress Jessamine Kaldwin.

The Empress brought a cup of tea to her muzzle, staring contemplatively across the water.

As Judy caught her breath and strode forward, the Empress' ear twitched, and she turned to face the approaching rabbit.

"Judy! What a surprise. I was just looking to see if I might catch a glimpse of your ship before you departed, and yet I find you here," the panthress said with a warm smile. "To what do I owe the privilege?"

"My Lady Empress, I have reason to believe that there is an imminent threat to your life. You need to come with me at once."

Jessamine recoiled in slight surprise, placing her cup of tea on the saucer she held, studying the rabbit in front of her for a moment.

At last she asked, "You're certain…?"

"Absolutely," Judy said with grim certainty

The panther inhaled sharply, the warmth of her countenance drained in a sudden sobering instant.

"We need to find-" The empress began.

"Mother, Judy!" a young voice called out from the direction of the Tower proper.

Judy and the Empress turned to see a blur of black that dashed forward with a speed that caught even the highly trained Royal Protector off guard. Before Judy could react, she found herself wrapped in the arms of Emily, Princess of the Isles.

Jessamine couldn't help but chuckle at the sight in front of her, even given the gravity of the situation. The young panthress was overjoyed to see Judy, snuggling close to the rabbit.

"I thought you were leaving today!" Emily said.

Judy quickly broke the embrace and turned towards the princess with a stern look.

"Emily, you and your mother need to come with me …  _right_ now."

The young panthress looked surprised, looking at Judy for some kind of explanation. Seeing perhaps, the fear that had lodged itself in the depths of the rabbit's heart, the young panthress' expression quickly shifted from confusion to surprise, and lastly to a brave front that barely contained the worry that the young mammal must have felt.

"Ok, Judy. What should I do?"

There was no trace of fear in Emily's voice, and Judy felt heartened by the trust the young panthress showed her.

"Judy!" Jessamine called out sharply.

The Royal Protector quickly glanced at the Empress, following her gaze across the pavillion to the roof of the waterlock.

There, dark clad figures were moving across the roof in the half-shadows and flickering light of the early dawn.

Judy drew her blade and un-holstered her pistol.

"Get behind me," she said.

Drawing her daughter close to her, Jessamine complied.

The rabbit watched as the figures reached the edge of the roof. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but the figures seems to wink in and out of existence.

In the blink of an eye, one of the figures was suddenly only a few feet in front of Judy, giving her hardly a moment to wonder how they had managed to close the distance.

The figure - some sort of vaguely-canine mammal garbed in black leather and concealed behind a mask - lunged forward with their blade. Judy was quick to react, swiftly deflecting the blade and turning the larger mammal's momentum against them. As they stumbled forward to recover from the unexpected parry, Judy was on them in a second - blade plunged forward to bite deep into the sword arm of the mammal's shoulder.

As the dark-clad mammal let out a groan of pain, the rabbit raised her pistol to the mammal's chest. As she pulled the trigger, she expected to hear the grunt of shock and pain as the metal slug chambered in her pistol struck her assailant. Instead, she heard the thunderous explosion of the pistol but found that the mammal in front of her had vanished.

In it's place was nothing but empty air.

Had it been a trick? Judy noted the crimson blood that dripped down the edge of her blade.

No, the mammal  _had_  been there.

But before Judy could consider this, she saw a sudden shadow on her right, and her highly honed instincts kicked in. She parried the cutting thrust without thought, spinning to sweep her strong legs in a backwards spin.

It connected with a solid impact, sending the cloaked figure reeling sideways. As the dark, leather garbed mammal hit the ground Judy followed up with a pointed downward strike intended to pierce the mammals heart.

And again, the rabbit found her blade connected with nothing but the chilly air of the bloody morning, striking with a resounding clink with the cobbles of the stone below.

As befitting the master duelist's skill, Judy recovered quickly. Drawing her blade to a defensive position, she backed herself up against Jessamine and Emily, blade at the ready. No mammal would get through her without a fight.

But Judy's overconfidence proved to be just that, as she suddenly was thrown sideways into one of the gazebos stone columns. She felt compressed, as though force was being applied to her from all sides. Her strength - considerable as it was for a rabbit - was unable to fight against the strange force that held her in place, and all she could do was look on.

Her eyes shot to a dark-clad mammal that had somehow appeared during the fight, a baleful green light emanating from it's outstretched arm, perhaps the source of her imprisonment.

And in a sudden flash of light, a wolf clad in red-dyed leathers appeared as if from nowhere. The timber wolf moved menacingly towards Jessamine with his blade drawn.

The Empress pulled Emily behind her in a last ditch effort to protect the young mammal. But it was too late.

Judy could do nothing but watch as the wolf grabbed the Empress by the shoulder and plunged his blade deep into the panther's abdomen. To the end of her days, Judy would  _never_ forget the look of shock on Jessamine's face as she fell to her knees.

Judy was screaming, but couldn't remember starting. Every fiber of Judy's being screamed in protest, in pain, in humiliation for having failed utterly and completely at her one purpose - protecting the Empress.

The wolf retracted his blade from the Empress and glanced briefly at Judy. The wolf's gold eyes shined like beacons, drowning out anything else. And then the wolf grabbed the startled Emily, throwing a heavy arm around the young panther and then …

They were gone.

Judy fell to the floor, quickly rising to her feet to find the gazebo empty, save for the dying Empress and splatters of blood from the assassins Judy had wounded.

The rabbit dived to the Empress' side.

"Judy … It's all coming apart …" the panthress gasped as Judy tried desperately to staunch the deep flow of crimson blood that seeped from the Empress' side.

"Don't talk, Jess. I'll get help - just hang in there," Judy pleaded.

"F-find Emily …" Jessamine gasped, coughing feebly in an attempt to hold her composure." P-protect her. You're the only one who will know what to do …"

A sudden spasm seized the Empress.

"C-corvo …" the panther said desperately, her eyes becoming unfocused. In a feeble whisper, Judy heard Jessamine's last words: "I wish … I wish it could have been different …"

And in her arms Judy felt her charge, Empress Jessamine Kaldwin draw her last breath. And with a shudder, the panthress died.

Judy had failed.

Her purpose in life, to protect the Empress - a failure, utterly and completely.

Judy had lost so much more than just her employer … she had lost a friend, a confident. Judy had many siblings, but no mammal had been as close or as important to her as the Empress that she protected and was sworn to serve.

She was only aware of the tears that streamed down her face when she saw them splash against the Empress' still form. The burning, overwhelming sting of grief had yet to crash against the numbing realization of the moment.

But she  _never_ forgot what she saw as she glanced up from Jessamine's body.

The masked form of a fox, clad in dark clothes but unmistakable against the gray roof of the waterlock.

The same fox she'd seen at the top of the Clocktower. The mammal she'd hired to help her find the source of the conspiracy against the Empress.

And in her moment of deepest grief, the mammal that Judy Hopps, Royal Protector vowed revenge against.

She did not have time to act on her vendetta: no sooner as she stood from the corpse of the Empress did four royal guards appear swords drawn. And behind them stood Hiram Burrows, the Spymaster accompanied by High Overseer Campbell.

"Ward us all … look at what she's done!" the pig exclaimed.

"Yes!" the spymaster said, glancing furtively around. "She's killed the Empress!"

Judy stood unmoving, numb to the accusations leveled against her.

"What did you do with young Lady Emily, traitor!" the rabbit accused Judy.

"Her own bodyguard …" Campbell mused. "Ironic."

"I'll see you beheaded for this, Hopps!" the Spymaster said. "Take her!"

Judy had not the strength to resist as one of the guards struck her and the world went dark.


	8. Honor Among Thieves

_"I've always equated "feelings" with "getting caught"...they both get in the way of my money. Unfortunately not everyone is as committed to their work as I am."_

-Garrett, Thief II: The Metal Age

* * *

 

The rotted wood of the chair that Nick sat reclined in groaned as the fox put his feet up on the surface of a desk covered in papers and maps. This was Daud’s base, deep inside the Flooded District and at the center of the old Financial Building.

On the outside, Nick seemed calm. Unworried, almost relaxed. A practiced disposition he had perfected to mask his intentions and thoughts from those around him. The two whalers that stood impassively - arms crossed on the other side of the room - seemed indifferent to Nick’s presence, though he couldn’t be certain thanks to their concealing masks.

“So,” Nick said. “This is some afterparty.”

This solicited nothing more than a brief glance from one of the whalers, who quickly returned to staring at… Outsider knew what.

“Not much for talking, huh?” Nick tried again, to much the same reaction.

Truth be told, the fox wasn’t in much of a mood for talking anyway. His seemingly random chatter was more a result of anxiety than anything else.

This had _not_ gone to plan.

Granted, he hadn’t had much input into the plan to begin with. But at least he could say he helped it become a little less bloody. From what Daud had suggested, his first plan would’ve been to carve a bloody swathe up the Waterlock. So he’d been happy to scale the wall to open a side door for Daud and his whalers. Nick was no fan of the City Watch - they had always been an obstacle in his profession - but he never wished them any real harm. The worst injury he’d ever inflicted on a guard left them with a pounding headache the next morning, but that was about it.

So Nick could console himself that he was able to make sure a few more guards got to go home to their families that night.

If only that were enough.

He’d barely had time to reach the edge of the waterlock roof when he glanced down to the gazebo and saw Daud’s quarry.

Jessamine stood looking out across the Wrenhaven, a cup of tea in her paws. Completely unaware.

Nick had felt a sudden turn in his stomach when he glanced back at the dark figures of the whalers, blades drawn, dashing across the roof of the waterlock. But before this feeling could manifest as second thoughts, the fox had seen something impossible.

The whalers had seemed to vanish … suddenly blinking out of existence, only to reappear an instant later yards ahead. The effect was mesmerizing, the half a dozen whalers seeming to pop in and out of reality.

This wasn’t natural.

He felt a shiver from the base of his skull down to the tip of his tail. It seemed that the rumors about Daud and his assassins dabbling in the occult were anything but.

When Nick had turned to look back at the Empress, he saw the one mammal he was certain could not be there, and the mammal he’d least wanted to see.

Judy Hopps, the Royal Protector.

The rest was a blur, as suddenly the whalers were in front of Judy and the Empress, swords drawn. Nick could only watch helplessly as the rabbit fought off the would-be assassins, the ringing sound of steel clashing against steel echoed across the morning.

Nick watched as Judy was flung against a column of the gazebo by what seemed like nothing. Until he noticed the whaler nearby with their arm outstretched, a baleful green light emanating from their paw.

And then suddenly Daud was there, sword drawn and glinting in the light of the early dawn.

The Empress recoiled and quickly pulled something behind her ...

No, _someone._

Nick saw Lady Emily Kaldwin, the panthress little more than a cub, witness her mother’s death at the hand of the Knife of Dunwall.

Whatever satisfaction Nick may have derived from seeing the mammal who let his father be hanged slain was shattered when he realized that he’d helped to inflict the same wrong onto the Empress’ daughter.

Worst of all, was the look of absolute and unmitigated hatred that he’d seen in the brief instant that Judy had caught his gaze before the Tower Guards dragged her away.

And now Nick sat, a “guest” of the whalers, trapped with his thoughts and the guilt they brought.

The fox wondered if this was how the condemned felt as they awaited their sentence.

Nick glanced around the room furtively, wishing he could be anywhere else. With a sidelong glance to the two whalers - who seemed to be doing their best to imitate the stone statues that littered the flooded streets of the district - Nick slowly slid open one of the drawer to Daud’s desk, making sure to be extra careful so that the desk wouldn’t make any sounds and turn the whaler’s attention his way.

Inside he was pleasantly surprised to see something other than the moldy paper that he’d find in any other desk in this building. It was a leather bandolier, the same carried by all the whaler’s he had seen. Normally, he’d chuck that into his bag and look through it later, but he doubted he could do so without alerting his guards.

Instead his attention was drawn to three or four strange looking bolts in the bandolier. At their tip they seemed to contain a vile of something green that seemed to almost glow in the dim light of the ruined building.

 _Well … this looks one of those sleep dart’s I’ve heard so much about._ Nick thought. _I bet Piero would love to get his paws on one of these._

With a quick glance back at the whalers, Nick swiftly plucked one of the bolts out of the bandolier, tucked it under his sleeve, and very carefully closed the drawer.

Suddenly, the fox felt his ears perk up as he heard the telltale _woosh_ he’d come to associate with the strange teleportation of the whalers. The door to the room creeped open to admit Daud, who walked with steady purpose up to the desk where Nick sat.

With barely a glance, the timberwolf made a slight gesture, prompting the two whalers to bow and vanish.

The fox felt the weight of Daud’s piercing gaze turn to him. A moment passed in silence as the assassin seemed to study the thief silently.

After a long moment, Nick broke the silence.

“Look, I know I’m dashing and all, but this is starting to creep me out.”

To Nick’s surprise the barest hint of a smile pulled at the wolf’s muzzle.

“You did well. We got it done,” Daud said simply. “You’ve earned your payment.”

“I’m overjoyed,” Nick said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Daud paused for a moment before stating, “You disapprove.” The wolf cocked his head. “Of the object or the methods?”

The fox crossed his arms.

“Let’s just say there’s a reason I’m a thief and not a murderer.”

“Is it really so different?” the wolf asked. “You take mammal’s possessions, and I take their lives.”

“Don’t even start,” Nick snapped, the hint of a growl deep in his throat. “There’s no equivocating.”

“Well, well …” Daud said, a tinge of amusement in his voice. “You’re not as much of a cynic as I thought.”

The wolf stepped past Nick and knelt down in front of a chest in the back of the room. He removed a key from a small chain about his neck and quickly unlatched the lock. Nick watched with some interest as Daud withdrew a pouch bulging with coins from within and turned to face him.

“Consider this payment,” the wolf said. “For services rendered.”

With that the wolf tossed the pouch to Nick, who deftly caught it. The fox opened it and quickly counted, purely out of habit. It totaled to just over 600 coin - the same sum promised to him by the Royal Protector.

Nick again felt a sickening turn in his stomach. Pushing his discomfort aside, the fox pocketed the pouch and stood to face Daud.

“Well,” Nick said. “I take this to mean you’re not planning on keeping me here.”

“That’s up to you, _Shadow Fox_ ,” the timberwolf said. “Though if you choose to stay, know that there’s plenty of opportunity here for a mammal with your talents.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” Nick scoffed. “Like I said, there’s a reason I’m just a thief.”

Nick turned and began to walk briskly towards the exit of the room, eager to put this miserable affair behind him. But as he reached a paw out to turn the handle of the door, the nagging sense of guilt that had been simmering under the surface suddenly flared up.

“What are you going to do with her?” the fox asked, half turning to glance back at the assassin.

Daud raised an eyebrow slightly and said, “For the time being? Nothing.”

“So she’s what … collateral?” Nick asked.

“Exactly. I’m sure you can appreciate how important it is to have insurance that your employer follows through with their end of the agreement.”

“Is this the kind of place to keep a cub?”

“It will do for now,” the wolf replied. “Is that concern I hear?”

“I don’t like loose ends,” Nick said. “And I don’t like collateral damage.”

“I’d give you my word that Lady Emily will be well treated,” Daud said. “But I suspect you wouldn’t accept it.”

“You’re damn right I-”

Nick was interrupted once more by the sudden burst of pressure that preceded the sudden rush of air as a figure clad in a crimson cloak - the same shade as Daud’s - appeared in the center of the room.

“Daud,” the masked figure said as they kneeled respectfully.

Even through the slightly muffled resonance of the whaler’s mask, Nick could tell that the rich voice was clearly feminine.

The figure stood, to reveal the stark silhouette of a hyena as she removed her mask and placed it under her arm.

“Lurk,” Daud said curtly. “You missed the job ... Why?”

“Ran into some delays tying up those … loose ends,” the hyena said as she glanced back at Nick. “Who’s the fox?”

“He’s the one that did your job while you were out in the city,” the wolf said flatly.

The hyena bristled slightly, before recovering her composure.

“Oh?” Lurk asked. “Did he do well?”

“The job’s done,” the wolf said. “So he did well enough.”

“You two do realize,” Nick said. “I’m standing _right_ here while you two are trying to be all cryptic.”

The hyena laughed at this, a surprisingly melodic sound.

“I _like_ this one,” she said turning back to Daud. “Good find, boss.”

“He’s not staying,” the wolf said. “Not for lack of trying.”

“Aww, a shame,” Lurk said. “Would have been a nice change of pace from the usual recruit.”

The hyena turned to briefly look over Nick, before bowing to Daud.

“I’ll catch up with you later, boss,” she said before she vanished in the same _woosh_ that Nick had come to expect.

Nick started to give voice to a quip, but stopped when Daud quickly held up a finger to silence him.

The wolf waited a beat, and then another before he lowered his finger and broke the silence.

“So now you’ve met Lurk. Tell me, what’s your take on her?”

“My take?” Nick asked.

Daud scoffed and said, “Please. In your line of work - as well as mine - it’s critical to be able to read a mammal in an instant. So I’m curious, what’s your take?”

Nick paused and thought for a moment, unsure of what Daud’s angle was. The fox considered his answer carefully.

“She was hiding something,” he finally said. “And whatever it was kept her from doing the job you ‘hired’ me to do.”

Daud nodded. “Yes, that was my thought. And why do you think that is?”

“Why are you asking me?” Nick deflected.

“Because I already know you don’t like me,” Daud said as though it was obvious. “Everyone else here is always kissing up to the boss, so they don’t always say what’s _really_ on their mind. You, I imagine, can’t find it in yourself to really care about what I think.”

“Well,” Nick said. “You’re not wrong…”

“It’s a shame that you hate me. You could do well here.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I’m interested, or ever will be.”

“Well,” Daud said. “Then I only have one final question for you.”

The wolf stared intently at Nick, who saw something novel. A momentary hesitation, an uncertainty flickered on the face of the wolf.

If Nick had been facing any other mammal than the Knife of Dunwall, he would have thought it was fear.

“Does the name ‘Delilah’ mean anything to you?”

Nick felt compelled to think carefully. After a moment of thought he answered truthfully, “No. I don’t think it does.”

The wolf nodded and said, “Very well.” Daud snapped his fingers, and in an instant two whalers appeared at his side. “Please show our guest out.”

* * *

 

A short time later, Nick found himself on a rooftop, retracing the same elevated path that had led him into the Flooded District only a day ago. It felt much longer than that. The fox was exhausted, like he had a ball and chain around his feet that grew heavier with every step he took.

Turning around, he could just barely make out the ruins of the old Financial Building, where Daud made his base… and where the Empress’ daughter was being held.

Nick felt the weight of the pouch Daud had given him as if it too weighed him down.

He recalled the sage advice Finnick had given him - the first piece of advice, back when Nick was about the same size as the fennec.

Never do a job for free.

It was the cornerstone of understanding how to be the Shadow Fox, and the thing that Finnick repeated more often than anything else.

“Your job isn’t to do mammals favors. It’s to make money,” the smaller fox has said. “The minute you start doing favors is the minute you lose sight of what you’re supposed to be working for, and the minute you get dragged into bullshit that’s gonna get you killed.”

Nick felt the weight of the pouch in his paw. In a sense it would be easier if he just kept walking. He could go back to his normal life, sneaking his way across rooftops and through mansions like a phantom to take things that nobody would miss. But try as he might, Nick couldn’t will himself to move any further away.

His mind’s eye kept turning back to his father. Back to the shock and the fear and the anger that came when his father had been hanged. The same things that Lady Emily had to be feeling now.

Nick let out a resigned sigh. “Finnick’s gonna kill me.”

With his entire might, the fox threw the bag of coin as far off into the distance as he could. After a moment he heard a distant splash as the pouch hit the water.

And with that, Nick turned back towards the financial district and began to walk.

* * *

 

It had taken every ounce of Nick’s considerable skill to work his way back into the bowels of Daud’s base undetected. Not eager to wander into another trap, he had been extra cautious. He was help enormously by his recent experience inside and among the whalers. He got a feel for how they moved, where they watched, and most importantly had learned what sound their strange teleportation made.

The guilt helped too, honing his focus into a razor sharp point. He had to find Emily.

He’d overheard a few of the whalers talking as he’d waited for Daud. They’d mentioned something about preparing quarters somewhere below, and he’d taken that to mean the lower levels of the building that hadn’t quite been flooded yet.

As Nick had descended down the levels of the building, he had found fewer and fewer whalers. Like him, he supposed, they prefered the high ground where they could see all approaches to the building. When at last he’d reached one of the lowest levels of the building and found no whalers in sight, he had almost turned around thinking he’d descended too far.

But then he’d seen two whalers standing rather conspicuously at the end of a hallway, right in front of heavy oak double door.

 _Really? You’d think assassins would’ve at least heard of the word subtlety._ Nick thought.

The fox considered his options.

If the floorplan on this level was anything like the ones above, the room they were guarding would be only accessible from the double doors. The perfect place for a makeshift prison cell.

The hallway was much too narrow for Nick to consider sneaking past the guards, not that it would matter. He’d still need to get through the door they were standing right in front of.

This meant he would have to lure the guards away, or incapacitate them somehow. But seeing how they were both trained assassins, he much preferred to avoid getting himself into paw to paw combat with them.

So Nick needed a distraction, something to pull them away.

And luckily he had just the thing.

Reaching into his pouch he pulled out a small device that bore some resemblance to a pocket watch. It was one of Piero’s contraptions. Apparently it was supposed to “rewire” the security on some of those Sokolov devices that the stoat seemed to despise. But the last time Nick had tried to use one, the only thing it had done was blow up in his face once its spring wound down.

This had given him quite the shock at the time, but now it would prove invaluable.

Nick knew from experience that a sudden loud noise would certainly lure away one guard, but not both. Similarly, he knew that no matter how convincing of a story he wove, the guards wouldn’t buy it for a second - unless of course they were a couple of Bottle Street thugs who’d been a bit too eager to sample the whiskey they’d been guarding.

But, if he had a good story, _and_ some “evidence” to back it up ... that might be convincing enough.

Nick set the strange clockwork device down on the floor and wound its spring five times. If past experience held true, then he would have about a minute before the device exploded.

Pausing a moment before rounding the corner, Nick took several deep breaths to steady himself.

In a sudden flash of motion, he dashed around the corner, sliding and nearly colliding with the wall. Feigning a stagger, the fox panted heavily as he pretended to struggle to his feet.

“Quick!” he shouted. “The Overseers!”

His words had the desired effect, as both whalers had their full attention on Nick. Paws on the hilts of their swords, one of them - a sleek feline easily twice Nick’s height and four times his body weight - shared a quick glance of confusion with his fellow whaler, before taking a tentative step forward.

“Overseers? Are we under attack?,” the whaler asked, his voice characteristically muffled by his mask. “Did Daud send you?”

Nick thought quickly. “Yes!” he said, drawing within arms length of the whalers. “I was with him when they started lobbing grenades through the window. We could hear them chanting their damn strictures as they attacked.”

The fox whirled to glance behind him, ears perked high. “Did you hear that?”

_Any second now…_

He chanced a look back at the whalers, who were sharing a second glance of confusion.

_Any second now…_

“Wait,” the second whaler - a doe - asked. “Why would he send you?”

“That’s… a great question!” Nick said, stalling for time.

_Any second now…_

“He sent me because… he needs skilled fighters! And I’m just a thief!”

“No, but why would he send _you_?”

Nick stared blankly at the deer. “Are you kidding? I just told you.”

The two whalers shared another glance before the fox spoke again.

“Look, we don’t have time for this, for all we know they could be just around the corner!” Nick said with a dramatic flourish, pointing down the hallway.

_Any second now…_

A long moment passed in silence. Finally the feline turned to their fellow assassin.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he asked the deer.

Nick sighed heavily.

_Well, so much for that plan._

With a flick of his wrist, Nick brought the dart he had pulled from Daud’s desk into the pads of his paw. Reaching up to clasp the feline’s shoulder, he leaped up and swung around to pull himself onto the larger mammal’s back. With a profunctury jab, Nick embeded the tip of the sleep dart into the feline’s neck before leaping backwards.

Tucking his legs in, Nick swung backwards in a flip just in time to spring off the wall behind him. With the strength of his coiled legs, he sprung forwards towards the remaining assassin, who had just begun a swing with her sword.

Surprised by the fox’s acrobatic maneuver, the deer couldn’t angle her blade in time to prevent him from colliding into her upper body. The two mammals went tumbling down hard. Nick reacted quickly, using his weight to pin the deer’s sword arm.

The deer struggled to regain her breath, clearly winded from the fall. Nick took the opportunity to draw his own sword and brought it pommel first against the deer’s head. The assassin stopped struggling.

Nick took a moment to catch his breath, but then held it and listened carefully. With his keen hearing, he made out the steady breathing of two mammals, and was satisfied that they both would live.

He had meant it when he told Daud there was a reason he was a thief and not an assassin.

The fox sheathed his blade and turned to inspect the lock on the double door. It seemed simple enough, and he quickly pulled out his lockpicks.

Nick set about his delicate task, taking care to work quickly but carefully. The last thing he could afford right now was-

_KRA-KOW!_

The piercing crack of a detonation startled Nick, and he felt his lockpick snap as he jolted.

The fox swore under his breath, pulling another pick out and starting over.

_This is what I get for assuming that any of Piero’s gadgets would work … Hell, even the ones that don’t work somehow still screw me over._

Nick needed to move quickly. If he was lucky, nobody would’ve heard the explosion. But once more the sage advice of a very grumpy fennec rose to his mind. “Never trust to luck what you can trust to skill. Luck gets you killed.” So Nick trusted his skill, and in but a moment the doors flung open.

The room beyond was dark, but in the half-gloom of the light that filtered in from far behind him, the fox could just make out the slight form of a young panthress. She was dressed in the same crisp white finery she wore at the gazebo - what felt like a lifetime ago - but it was speckled with mud and grime.

Green eyes shone out of the darkness, and seemed to study Nick. He had expected to see fear in them, but found instead only guarded curiosity.

“You’re not one of them…” the young pathress said.

“No, my name is Nick.” he said, moving slowly into the room, arm outstretched. “I don’t have time to explain, but please, you have to trust me.”

The young Emily recoiled for just a moment, but then tentatively reached out and took Nick’s paw.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he said.

After a pause, Emily replied, “Okay… let’s go.”


End file.
